The Warrior and the Witch
by wickedmetalviking1990
Summary: The sixth chapter of my Ozian Adventures series, the sequel to Of Saints and Sinners. Why is Elphaba going back to Midgard? Will her child be born in safety? And what of her sister, believed to be dead? Rated T, based on The Witch's Saga and other sources
1. Dreams and Nightmares

**(Happy Wicked Day, fellow Ozians! Here is the sixth installment of my _Ozian Adventures_ series, the long-awaited [mostly by me] sequel to _Of Saints and Sinners_.)**

**(Hope you will enjoy it)**

* * *

><p><strong>Dreams and Nightmares<strong>

The little thing was bouncing up and down, but she was not paying much attention. She was trying to stay out of everyone's way, appear as invisible as possible. Of course, having green skin made this task nigh impossible for Elphaba Thropp, especially when the Head _Shiz_-tress was parading her before the female students, asking them if they would volunteer to share with her.

She didn't notice the little blond thing until they were hand in hand. Now they pulled apart in simultaneous revolt.

The scene shifted and she found herself walking down a hallway, a horde of that little blond thing's mindless friends walking after her, mocking her. Now she was standing alone on a lighted dance hall, and the little blond thing had a name now. It was the name, the one that she had known and loved for so long, who had shared with her so many adventures...who had died in her very arms.

Galinda.

Now they were in her palatial room, her sitting on the blond's bed, staring up at her reflection in the mirror. Now she was holding the little blond thing as she wept on the train station, now they were running about a city of emeralds, followed them by the two of them huddling for fear in a dark attic. Images of their life together flashed before her eyes: everything that happened three years afterward, even down to the enraged fight in the fields of Center Munch and their last moments together in Kiamo Ko.

Suddenly they were in the mountains, and the little blond thing was with her again. She seemed to dance in and out of her memory, fading away at last in the shadow of an elderly man in a gray cloak that led her and the man she recognized as her husband away from the dark room.

Elphaba's keen mind took note of this. If the story was true, this was the last time she had seen Glinda (as she was now called) before they reunited just a few days ride from Fire Hill. She had to pay special attention to everything that happened next.

Now she saw herself atop Nessarose, as a horse, and a little blond thing was appearing. She was a light, almost, shining like a beacon of hope, but it was only on the surface. She was the same essence she had known, but it was very weak, like a ray of light reflecting off a small shattered piece of glass.

The glass image was now with them, comforting her, speaking words to her that only Glinda knew. The effect was almost perfect. They were back in Oz, but the Oz of the past. The little glass shard was continually reflecting the image of her beloved friend. Now they were alone together, fighting against the darkness. The little glass thing was shattered.

The images faded all together, and Elphaba found herself on the side of a mountain, looking out at the land below. It was wholly strange to her, and it made her smile. She was in the right place.

When she had leaped through the Time Dragon Clock, she could feel herself moving through the ether between the worlds, and was able to tap into her inate magic to project her own essence back through time and memory. She had to know why Glinda had said those last words to her in the cave just a few moments ago. She willed the memories into being, and examined them carefully. She was much more powerful than she had been that day in the attic, much more in command of her power. She could tell it to give her the memory she wished, find exactly what she was looking for, bring her spirit back into her body and then push her way through the realm of ether to the world she now looked upon.

It was totally alien, yet she could spot it from among the many as she floated through the ether. It was a world that was both strange and familiar, one she had visited but a few months prior. It seemed like a life-time ago since she had been here. It was a risk, especially in her condition, especially being in a place as savage and wild...

As Midgard.

But this was where she needed to be, because here was where the little blond thing became the glass shard. It was almost too much for her to believe. But she was there to the very end, cradling Glinda in her arms, and hearing her last words...

"I'm not...Glinda."

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: More questions than answers? Well, that's the point!)<strong>

**(Tell me what you think of it so far, because there will definitely be much more in the works to come.)**


	2. Nessa's Story

**(AN: No updating other stories until tomorrow, so here's a new _Wicked_ chapter to _The Warrior and the Witch_.)**

**(It will start getting Nordic in the next chapter, I promise you. Just hold out there)**

* * *

><p><strong>Nessa's Story<strong>

On the top of the mountain, Fiyero Tiggular, the sister of his beloved in his arms, appeared next to the fallen woman. She was on her hands and knees, breathing as if she had run a long way. Immediately, he placed the little brunette down and ran over to Elphaba's side. With her being over seven months with child, she could not be exerting herself in such a way.

"Fae, are you alright?" he breathed. "Is it the baby?"

She shook her head.

"No," she said. "Just a vision."

"A vision, eh?" He could not remember the last time she had had a vision: was it in Oz?

She struggled to get herself back up, and Fiyero lent her his hand to stabilize her. They turned around and saw the one who had been their horse for so long, huddled in the red-and-black dress that Azalea Thropp had given them. There was no mistaking the face, though, that looked pale and a bit frightened.

It was Nessarose, her sister, alive again.

The three of them made their way along the mountain-side, trying to find a save way down into the valleys below. Fiyero carried Nessa, since Elphaba was heavy with child and in no condition to be carrying anyone, even someone as petite as Nessarose.

For carry her they must. They knew not if her legs could work or not.

* * *

><p>The trek down was long and dangerous, and for a while, Fiyero thought about taking the lead. After all, Elphaba wasn't in any condition to be walking down a mountain-side and he had a responsibility to both of them.<p>

_Well, look at me now!_ he thought. _Getting all responsible and...and_ thinking _to boot!_

About four hours after mid-day, they came to a rest. They were half-way down the mountain and would be at the foot-hills by nightfall.

"Where are we?" Fiyero asked. "This doesn't look anything like Oz."

"Elphaba, what's going on?"

This was Nessarose who spoke. But neither Fiyero nor Elphaba had a full answer to her question. Only a partial one.

"We're not in Oz anymore, Nessa," Elphaba said. She then turned to Fiyero. "We're in Midgard."

"Where?"

Fiyero was looking at Elphaba oddly, though.

"What now?" she asked.

"We can't be there," he said. "It-It doesn't make any sense!"

"What doesn't make sense, Yero?"

"Yero?"

"No, 'cuz you remember the last time we were here, right?"

"Yes." Elphaba nodded.

"And you weren't green, remember?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Uh, excuse me?"

"Well, look at yourself!"

Elphaba looked down at her hands, as instructed, and saw that nothing had changed. It was a little surprising, but not exactly unwelcome. Though she still had some qualms about being green, she knew that at least two people loved her.

One now, because the glass piece had disappeared.

Just like Azalea Thropp, her maternal ancestor, the insufferably lovable Munchkin-marm Daisy Fromica, everyone she knew in Middle Earth, and all the silly, gullible people of Oz...and especially Glinda

They were all gone.

* * *

><p>Nightfall.<p>

They were camping at the foot-hills of the mountain, Fiyero sacrificing his coat to keep Elphaba warm while he slept by the fire they had made. Elphaba gazed into the flames, the dancing tongues of fire reminding her of the ominous glow of blood red that filled the cave when Glinda had died.

Or had she?

_Her mind cleared again, and she saw the pieces of broken glass lying forsaken in a masoleum somewhere in ancient Oz. They melted before her very eyes, becoming a weak, quivering little ball of light, free and unbound by space, time or world. It moved through the ether with great ease, coming at last to the world she had but viewed before: where the rest of the light remained._

_Now the tiny speck of light was flickering in the wind as it flew its way through the many miles of land and air and came to rest in a fog that soon materialized into a castle. One that she had spent an awful time there-at, and the last time she had seen the light._

_That speck of light from the broken glass joined another speck of light, which also looked weak and feeble: ready to be snuffed out at the slightest blast of wind. Now they were together, coalescing into one half-being of pure light. A form appeared from out of the light, and a tear fell down Elphaba's cheek as she saw the face of the figure._

"Elphaba?"

Her sister's words pulled her out of this trance and back into the real world. The only light was the fire. Fiyero was long asleep and now Nessa was up on her...

She was walking?

"Nessa!" she gasped. "H-How?"

"You did, sis," Nessarose returned. "That day when you found me."

Elphaba's head was spinning. When had she found Nessa and how had she healed her legs, made her able to walk without those ruby slippers?

Nessa knelt beside her sister, her eyes turned toward the large swelling in her sister's abdomen.

"Sweet Oz!" she said, both hands over her mouth. "You're pregnant?"

Elphaba nodded.

"Who's the father?" she asked.

"Fiyero."

"Are you..."

"Believe me, I'm sure." Elphaba said. She could never understand these women who were not sure who had impregnated them. It took two, as she learned from personal experience, and it would take a lot to keep her oblivious for nine months and un-knowledgeable about the actual deed.

Elphaba expected Nessarose to ask to touch her stomach. To her surprise, she placed her arm around her.

"Wow," Elphaba said, with surprise. "This is new."

Immediately she regretted saying that. Nessarose pulled herself away, turning her back to Elphaba and her face to the ground.

"Nessa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

Nothing.

"Nessa, please..."

Still silence. She rolled her eyes. Why was she going to put her through this?

"I owe you an apology, Elphaba."

Nessarose had spoken, but she had not turned to face her sister.

"The last time we were together," Nessarose began. "I said some very hurtful things." She turned around. "I've always loved you, sis. But, I don't know, something changed in the years we were apart." She shook her head. "I know that doesn't excuse my awful treatment of you."

"It's me who should apologize," Elphaba said. "I didn't do my sisterly duties to you. I..." she sobbed. "I let that damn Dorothy kill you, when I could have saved you!"

"Elphaba..."

"It's true! And I never did anything for y..."

"Elphaba, that's enough!" Nessa said sternly.

"Listen," she began. "I don't know how it happened, but..." She winced, as if remembering some great pain. "...after that happened, I found myself as a horse in a strange land. I couldn't speak, but I could walk and I could think...and I was alive again.

"Then some evil creatures found me, they..." She shuddered, tears streaking down her face. "They tortured me! They said things, they were ready to eat me!" Elphaba crawled over to her sister and placed her hand around her shoulder. Nessa did not flinch.

"But there was a disagreement, and they ended up just leaving me there to die. Then..." She turned her little, oval-shaped face to her green sister.

"Then you came."

Elphaba's mouth fell open slightly in amazement. Perhaps this was the enchantment he had spoken of: but who had put it on Nessa, and how was it able to make her survive death?

"You used your magic on me," she said. "Like before. Only this time, you healed my legs...completely. I stuck around you, hoping that you would find out, that I could communicate something to you. But I was just a horse, and all I could do was neigh.

"When Fiyero let me go, I had time to think about some of the things that had happened. I was now a horse, and your pack beast, your mount, but you treated me with as much care and...and...love, as if I were a real person."

"Doesn't everyone deserve that kind of love?" Elphaba asked. According to her father and the rest of Oz, she didn't deserve it.

"Yes," Nessa nodded. "But then it hit me. Father treated you like a slave, and I with him...and you weren't a horse. You never complained, or shied away from taking care of me." She wiped the tears out of her eyes.

"When you found me again, I decided that I would stay with you, and be your loyal mount, in hopes that you would one day learn the truth and try to undo the spell."

Silence hung heavily between them for the space of a few moments.

"But that's not all," she continued. "While I was your horse, I came to realize that you had born all of my burdens...most of which were thrown upon you as if it was your fault, that you messed up and-and you had to fix it." She shook her head.

"Nobody deserves to be treated that way, least of all you, for all you've done for me."

Elphaba herself was tearing up. The two sisters wrapped their arms around each other, sobbing into their shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Elphaba!" Nessa said. "I was wrong, father was wrong."

Elphaba said nothing. There were no more words to be said that this sisterly embrace was not saying. She smiled through her tears. Beyond all hope, Nessarose had returned.

She felt genuinely happy.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Original title was 'Still Green', but thought that Nessa's revelation merited a chapter change.)<strong>

**(If you've been getting curious about what I mean about 'pieces of glass' and 'balls of light', just wait. It will be revealed, to a degree, later on. Perhaps even next chapter!)**


	3. Reunited Again

**(AN: Still need a story for this. I have a basic idea of what I'm shooting for, but it's the exposition of that plot which is going to prove even harder.)**

**(As for Nessa's appearance, I'm having as much trouble with that as with Elphaba. Somewhere between Marcie Dodd's cuteness and Cristy Candler, whom I usually envision as Nessarose [since she can be, believably, both sweet and stern]. But most of the actresses who have played her [with one exception] are brunettes or have reddish hair, so I might as well let you imagine her as whoever. The only person I'm trying to not imagine as one of the bases for my characters is Jemma Rix. She's been haunting my mind ever since _Of Saints and Sinners_...and it hasn't been pretty.)**

**(Lastly, as you may know, if you've read _OSnS_, Nessarose is wearing a different outfit. It's the red-black dress from the Wicked Witch of the East Barbie, which Azalea [her maternal ancestor] gave to Elphaba, and then they gave to her.)**

**(Now enjoy! [any references to _Lord of the Rings_ is unintentional, since it's referred to _Another War_)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Reunited Again<strong>

In the morning, the three of them continued on their way away from the mountain. Their journey did not seem to be getting any better, for it was still slow. For one who had done a great deal of running over the past nine months or so, Nessarose was still unsteady on her feet. It was Elphaba, however, for whom the two were most nervous.

"You shouldn't be on your feet so much," Fiyero said.

"No, I'm fine," she said, trying to hide her irritation.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Fiyero shrugged. "I just mean, well, I don't know, you _did_ say we were back in Midgard, right?"

"Yes, I'm certain."

"But I remember what happened last time we were there," he said.

"And?"

"And..." he sighed. "This can't be it! You're still green."

"So?" she bit back. "Do you think I wouldn't be green because of where we're at? Would you prefer me to be pink and pale like your little empty-headed ex-girlfriend?"

"No, I didn't mean that..."

"Don't you think I have enough on my mind as it is already without _you_ making up a bunch of nonsense questions about where we're at and why we're there?"

"Elphaba, what's wrong?" Nessarose asked.

"And _you_!" she turned to her sister. "I thought you were dead! And all this time, you've been my _horse_! Not only that, you suddenly come back and expect everything to be fine, after all that you and father have put me through, after you've hated me for so long!"

"Elphaba, I'm sorry..."

"Are you?" she inclined her head sinisterly. "Well, I don't think so."

She turned around and started walking away. She did not get very far. After about three steps, she halted.

"Fae?"

"Elphaba?"

The green woman did not move, she just rocked threateningly on her feet. A hand went up to her head, but suddenly she collapsed.

Fiyero threw his arms around her, keeping her from falling face, and stomach, first onto the hard earth. Nessarose ran to her sister's side, examining her face. Her eyes had rolled back, the lids sliding shut lazily. She did not even register that they were with her.

"Elphaba!" Nessa cried out. She then turned to Fiyero. "What's happened to her?"

"I don't know!" It was true. It could be anything; exhaustion, they had not eaten properly in months. It could be her condition, she might have pushed herself into an early delivery. But nothing seemed to be wrong with her other than the fact that she had seemingly fainted.

Then again, he didn't know the first thing about what happened the moment a child was born.

* * *

><p>Nightfall had come again. They were sitting around their little fire, enjoying what warmth and little protection it offered them. Nessarose sat at her sister's side, trying to make sure she was okay. One hand of hers, Fiyero noted, had come to rest on Elphaba's swollen stomach.<p>

"Couldn't resist, could you?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," Nessarose turned to Fiyero. "It's just that I don't remember my mother. She died when I was born." She turned to Elphaba. "The only woman I had in my life was my big sister."

He crawled over to Elphaba, where her sister was at as well. Silence followed for the next several minutes, broken only by the crackle and pop of the fire as it devoured the wood.

"What was she like?" he asked. "I mean, you knew her more than anyone else I know..." he sighed. "Except for Glinda."

"Where do you start?" Nessa exclaimed. "There was always big sister Elphaba around, always green, always so...strange."

"Her magic?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Father called it a curse, an abnormality. Sometimes he would lock her away in the attic." She bit her lower lip. "But then he'd let out again, to take care of me." She moved her hand up and caressed Elphaba's face. In the dim light of the fire, it looked orange rather than green. "She never complained, never mistreated me. I can never repay her enough."

"Wow."

"And now," she turned to Fiyero. "Now_ she's_ the one who needs help." Nessarose shook her head. "But I don't know how to help! She was always the one to take care of me. I never could take care of anything."

She laughed uneasily.

"I remember, this one time," she said. "Father bought me this beautiful butterfly-rose from Quadling as a birthday present. He said it was the most beautiful flower in all of Oz, and deserved to belong to the prettiest girl in all of Munchkinland." She blushed.

"But it died. I couldn't take care of it!"

"Hey, don't cry."

Nessa cried out. If she had not been that close, she would not have noticed that it was Elphaba speaking.

Her eyes creaked open, she looked fine enough.

"Fae!" Fiyero breathed with great relief.

"Yero!" she held up her hand, rubbing the scruff of his beard.

"He saved you from hurting yourself when you fainted!" Nessa said.

"You'll always be my hero!" she said to her lover. He smiled, kissing her hand.

And promptly collapsed onto the ground.

"Not you too!" Elphaba exclaimed.

"He's just tired," Nessa said, holding Elphaba's face in her hands. "You gave us quite a scare when you fainted."

She nodded.

"What happened?"

"I shouldn't have shouted at you," Elphaba shook her head. "I don't know, maybe it's because I'm pregnant. My emotions seem to be affecting my powers."

"What do you mean?"

"I had another vision," she said. "The light is slowly dying, we have to keep moving."

"Elphaba," Nessarose halted. "What exactly are we doing here in the first place?"

Elphaba sighed.

"Do you remember my powers, back when I was younger?"

Nessarose nodded. "You used to scare us so much."

"I can see things in the future," she said. _It was how I found out you were in trouble_, she thought. But the subject of Nessarose's death was not something they had brought up, not yet at least.

"And you just now had a vision?"

"Yes." Elphaba nodded, a smile on her face.

"She's not dead."

* * *

><p>Over the next several days, they continued their travels through the open country-side. In the distance they could see signs of civilization: far-out villages and farm-houses dotting the landscape. But Elphaba did not choose to stop for the night at any of them.<p>

After all, who would take in a green thing like herself?

About mid-day through today's march, Elphaba halted.

"What's wrong?" Fiyero asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," she shook her head. But he saw that she was wincing while she spoke.

"Is it time already?" he asked, fearing the worst.

"No, I'm fine," she returned. "Whatever it was, it's gone now."

"Are you sure?"

"Just relax! I'm not made of glass, you know!"

They walked on, in relative silence, allowing the wind to caress them as they went. Nessarose had her hair free, and it was being picked up in the wind and flew about like a sea of rubies and onyx.

"You know," Nessa said. "I told you my story, but you haven't told me yours. What's going on here? I mean, I remember everything between meeting you and now, but I'm talking about what happened between those two points."

Elphaba and Fiyero began going over what happened between when Elphaba left Colwen Grounds and when they found her in the fields of Rohan. Nessarose listened intently, and placed her hand over her mouth when she heard what happened in the Throne Room of the Wizard. She had always liked Glinda, up until Boq chose _her_ over her.

"I tried to get to you, once I had the vision..."

"You mean you've had these before?" Nessa asked. "These weren't the first time for you?"

"No," Elphaba shook her head. "But it didn't matter. I was too late."

Nessa bit her lip.

"It all went downhill after that," Elphaba said. "Glinda led me into a trap, and Fiyero gave his life to save me from it. I tried to use my magic, I succeeded...but I didn't know it at the time. I..." She shook her head. "I don't know what came over me at that time. It's all so fuzzy, I...I don't think I was thinking clearly."

"Well, I was," Fiyero said. "For the first time in my life, _I_ was thinking clearly, and planning at that! Can you imagine?" Nessa giggled. It was the first time she had genuinely laughed in a long time. "I asked around, especially with her..."

"Dorothy." Elphaba hissed.

"Her story of other worlds intrigued me," he added, turning to Elphaba. "After all, if _she_ were able to go from her world and come to ours, could we not leave our world and go to another? So I formulated a plan, where Elphaba and I would escape, find a way to stow out of Oz and come to some other world."

"And that's what brought you to me?" Nessa asked.

"Yes." Fiyero said.

"And what about..."

"There it is!" Elphaba pointed. Fiyero knew this walled town, for they had once spent time here and had, by a stroke of luck, miraculously escaped.

"Worms."

"Worms?" Nessa asked.

"The name of that town over there." he pointed out to it. Just then he turned to Elphaba.

"What are we going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the last time we were here, you weren't...well, _green_. They saw you like that, and if they see you like this now..."

"What's going on?" Nessa asked.

"We need to cover you up!"

"Great idea!" Elphaba commented with profound annoyance.

"I'm serious!" Fiyero insisted. "You remember what happened last time we were here! Oz knows what they'll do now that you're green."

"But we don't have any extra cloth."

"Don't worry." Fiyero said. "We'll figure something out..." Then, aside...

"I hope."

* * *

><p>The doors opened, and the captain of the guard appeared.<p>

"My lord!" he announced to the one on the throne. "We found three strangers on the outskirts of the farms. They said that they have been guests of Your Lordship and wish to be presented before you."

"His Majesty is busy at the moment, and _will_ not be disturbed." the woman at the king's right-hand said, with very thinly veiled disgust and contempt at the soldier.

He wore a small metal cross on a chain about his neck.

"My lady," the captain said to her. "They have mentioned you by name, these strangers. And His Lordship as well."

"And did you happen to get _their_ names?" the queen asked.

"Yes," the captain said. "There was a man named Fiyero, he claimed to be Prince of the Vinkus. There were two women, the one clad in crimson and sable, the other shrouded and veiled. I could not see the face of the veiled one, but the 'prince' said that she was his woman: Elphaba-something."

A pause.

"And what exactly are you waiting for?" Queen Grimhild asked. "Bring them in at once!"

"Yes, my lady!"

The captain walked off, and the King turned to his queen.

"Maybe you should let me take care of my own affairs of state, woman! I am the king, after all."

"If it is the will of the gods."

"The gods did not make me king!" he said to her. "The church made me king, and you would be wise to remember that!"

"And will the church protect you from the Huns?"

Silence.

"Hold your serpent's tongue, Grimhild!" the King roared. "If you are even capable of doing that!"

She merely nodded and then turned to the doors of the throne room. They parted, revealing the captain with his quarry.

"Here they are, my lord." the captain said to the King.

"Hmmm." he sighed.

"Uh, Your Majesty?" Fiyero said, speaking to the King. "I don't know if you..."

"I remember you," he said. "It has only been a year since you took advantage of our hospitality and escaped without as much as giving thanks!"

"But we have returned!"

"And on the heels of war, it seems!"

"No, my lady! You're still too weak!"

Just then, a door to the left of the throne-room, behind where the King and Queen sat, opened. Three young women appeared, with two others in their midst. Both of them had bright blond hair, but the shorter of the two of them had hair almost like gold. Her skin was also a tad more tanned than her companion, but it also looked cleaner.

At his side, Fiyero felt Elphaba give a cry.

She threw herself out of Fiyero's grasp and ran toward the two women. The ladies-in-waiting - was _that_ what they were? - rose to stop them.

"No, it's fine!" the shorter blond said. "Stand aside."

They did as instructed.

"Elphie?"

Beneath her shroud, she was smiling, crying, shaking as if stricken by severe cold. A little, soft hand reached down and placed itself upon her shoulder. Those eyes were the same, shining with light, blue and lovely to behold. Her hair was no longer curled, but braided in four long tails that hung down on the front and on the back: but it was the same hair.

She smiled. Elphaba was melting on the inside.

"Glinda!" she breathed.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Yes, she's back!)<br>**

**(Leave questions and comments below!)**


	4. Of Glass and Life

**(AN: Bleh, don't know what to say. Just enjoy this chapter...if that's possible)**

**(I had planned what happened back in _The Witch's Saga_. I knew she wasn't dead, but had to ease our readers into it to build suspense. It also leaves the possibility for other plot-bunnies, as you shall soon see [alliteration ftw] in this chapter!)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Of Glass and Life<strong>

"Did we ever leave?" Fiyero asked, looking about the room they were now in.

It was the exact same one they had escaped from when they were first here in Worms. The room hadn't changed, and they were here once again, three friends.

But it wasn't the same as before. Instead of Glinda, the friend was Elphaba's sister Nessarose. So much had happened since that one moment, it all seemed so unreal.

Just then, the door creaked open. Elphaba almost leaped off the bed and smothered Glinda with her arms.

"It's good to see me, isn't it?" she asked.

Elphaba was too busy sobbing, squeezing and even kissing Glinda's cheek to make a response.

"Elphie, are you alright?" Glinda asked, pushing the green woman off her. She nodded in reply, too shaken up to say anything.

"Oh, Elphie," Glinda laughed. "You're acting as if I've died!"

"Glinda, you silly thing!" Elphaba cried, throwing her arms back around Glinda's neck.

"Whoa," she said. "You've never been this emotional, Elphie. Is everything alright?" She then pulled herself out of Elphaba's grasp and took a look down.

"Oh, sweet Oz!"

"Wait a minute!" Fiyero interjected. "You know about this, didn't Gandalf tell us all that one time at..."

Glinda nodded. "But, oh, Elphie! This is so spendiforous!" She hugged again, then suddenly pulled away, a gasp on her lips.

"Nessarose?" she asked, looking at the quite-forgotten woman with reddish-brown hair. "E-Elphie, what happened? I thought she was..."

"Glinda," Elphaba returned. "We have a lot to talk about, you and I."

Nessarose began by speaking of her story, and how she had been turned into a horse and come into their care.

"I knew there was something oddified about that horse," Glinda said. "I just never believed..." She sighed, a smile on her face. "But I guess that's appropriate."

"What do you mean?" Nessa asked out of shock. "You have no idea what _happened_ to me!"

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that!" Glinda apologized.

"What I would like to know, Glinda," Elphaba said. "Is what happened to _you_?"

"What do you mean?"

"You escaped this castle and found your way to us!" Elphaba said.

"No I didn't," she returned. "I've been here all this time."

"Elphaba's right," Fiyero said. "You've been with us since Fire-Hill."

"What? I-I haven't the foggiest idea what you..."

"You were there with us!" Elphaba nigh shouted. "You slew the Chancellor, he..." She sobbed. "He hurt you! Don't you remember Oz? Everything we went through together? The Ozma? Shiz? Daisy? Azalea?"

"Me getting shot." Fiyero added. "I'll _never_ forget that!" He rubbed his side, where an old crossbow bolt had been removed in Oz of the past.

Glinda was looking rather surprised at all this, then looked down at her hands. For a brief moment, a look of surprise and confusion was on her face, then one of fear.

"Elphie," she whispered. "I need your help!"

"What do you mean?"

"I..." she hesitated. "What I mean is that...Well, I know that I've never left the castle of Worms." She turned to the other three; they were like family to her, more so than Quelala and Gaylette Upland, back in the Upper Uplands of Gilikin, so far away...

"But I'm not so sure anymore."

"Explain."

"I've been having these dreams," she said, a hand resting on her pale temple. "I see...strange things. Worlds made of glass, of fire, of sand, forests of metal and wheels, and..." She sighed. "And Oz."

"Oz?"

"Well," she stated. "_Two_ different dreams, but they both had to do with Oz. One, I'm in Quadling and everyone is coming to me for advice, for help with their problems. There's an Ozma back in Oz, and the Wizard has returned..." She paused, trying to consider all of this.

"And the third?" Nessa asked.

Glinda turned back to her friends.

"In the third dream," she began. "I'm in Oz again, but it's cold, harsh, so very different from the Oz we knew, much older, or maybe much younger...more...uncivilized. There's an Ozma in Oz, but the Wizard is not there...only a giant man, with red eyes..." She shuddered. "He knows I'm there, he speaks to me, calls out to me in my dreams."

"Were we there?" Elphaba asked.

Glinda nodded vigorously. Her hair seemed so strange, the braids jostling lazily with the shaking of her head: not at all like the bouncing curls.

"You and Fif...Fiyero," she finished. "But there was a horse as well."

"A black one?" Nessa asked.

"Yes." Glinda nodded again.

"It was me."

Glinda wrapped her arms around her shoulders, looking quite cold. And that even though she was clad as most of the women in the castle were.

"Glinda, what's wrong?" Elphaba asked.

"I...I don't know!" she fearfully whispered. "Every time I have those dreams, I-I get so cold, so weak! I feel so drained, as if I'm just half of myself!" Elphaba sat down beside her and placed her arm around Glinda's shoulder. She stopped shivering so violently.

"Thanks."

"It's the least I can do for my best friend."

* * *

><p>Several days passed. They were still officially guests at King Gjuki's castle, yet they were not allowed to leave. Guards were posted outside their door, and they were allowed no visitors other than Glinda and Gudrun.<p>

One afternoon, Glinda and Elphaba were looking out the window of the green woman's room.

"Do you have it with you?" the blond asked.

"What?"

"The Grimmerie!"

Elphaba reached into her bag and presented it, having been quite forgotten ever since...Oz.

"Fiyero kept it safe," she said. Glinda took it from her hands.

"You've been reading?"

Glinda nodded.

"But you didn't have it with you," Elphaba said. "The..." It seemed so odd, yet what other explanation could there be?

"The _other_ Glinda had the book, she gave it to me." She looked the Grimmerie over carefully. "Is this a fake?"

"No," Glinda shook her head. "It's real enough. I sent that one to you for safe-keeping. You wouldn't believe it, one of these friar-people wanted to burn it!"

"We can't have that happen," Elphaba shook her head, leaning the book upon her knees. Just then, Glinda noticed her hand slide down to her side.

"Elphie, what is it?"

"Nothing," the green woman lied. "Just back aches."

"That wasn't your back, Elphie. Are you..." She gasped.

"No, it's nothing." Elphaba shook her head. "It's gone now."

Glinda kept her eyes trained on Elphaba, watching for any other suspicious behavior.

"How did you know, by the way?" Elphaba asked.

"What?"

"You said you've been here all this time," the green woman astutely deduced. "Yet you somehow know that there was _another_ Glinda..."

"Why would you say that?" Glinda asked suspiciously.

"Because you told me that you sent this to me," she tapped the Grimmerie with her green fingers. "For safe-keeping. Yet you've said that you never left Worms."

"Elphie, I don't want to talk about this."

"Why not?"

"Why do you _want_ to talk about it, Elphie? It doesn't matter anymore!"

"Oh, I think it _does_ matter!" Elphaba's voice rose. "I think I have the right to know why my best friend let me think she had _died_ when she was actually alive!"

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

Elphaba rose to her feet, taking a step back from Glinda. It didn't seem like she was even looking at the same person she knew and loved.

"What, did you think you could get away with that?" Glinda returned, rising up to her feet, staring the green woman down. "All the worrying, all the sleepless nights, all the tears - did you really think you could just show up and wish that all away?" Elphaba saw an angry look in the little blond's eyes, like the reflection of a fire in the hall of glass mirrors.

"No one is above retribution, Elphaba Thropp, not even you!"

At that moment, Elphaba saw stars and suddenly her whole world was black. Pain stabbed at her from all sides, but with no light, she could not see who or what was attacking her or causing the pain. Suddenly the darkness was banished and she found herself back in Shiz. The light was there, beaming out for everyone to notice her - but it was not as she had seen it before. For every light, the darkness is always there: no matter how bright the light, there must always be a darkness.

The years passed by like a swift breeze, all the while the light grew stronger while the darkness grew faint and dim, though not wholly vanquished. It seemed to be in check, the power of the light overcoming the darkness that possessed it. The light had moved from the halls of Shiz, out of the Land of Oz all-together, and was once again in the dark world of Midgard. The light had turned to glass and shattered in four pieces. The light was faded, made less; the darkness now had precedence. Two of the pieces of glass were still bright with the memory of the light, but the last two gave Elphaba reason for alarm.

One of the pieces of glass seemed wrapped in a conflict against the light and the darkness. Neither seemed to gain the upper hand. The last piece, however, was wholly consumed by the darkness.

* * *

><p>Glinda's anger dissipated like a sudden burst of spring rain. The green thing had collapsed to the ground, and she was the only one there. With fear in her heart, she knelt down at Elphaba's side and lifted her head into her arms. Nothing, no response came from her. She looked around, for some kind of sign of attack or injury that might have caused Elphaba to faint. A dark stain she saw upon the floor, though it was not like the ugly, dark crimson of blood.<p>

More like water.

"Oh, sweet Oz!" she breathed.

* * *

><p>It was many hours after mid-day. The night had long since fallen upon the city of Worms. In her room, the only room they had, Elphaba was quite shut away. With her was her sister Nessarose, Glinda, Gudrun, and a mid-wife that Gudrun had managed to procure. Outside the room, Fiyero paced before the guards, wracked with nervous anticipation. All he could hear were screams coming from the room, and it tortured his heart to hear her cry out as such...<p>

And not be able to help her.

He had remained here since Elphaba had been taken away into the room: around one o'clock. It was almost midnight. His body screamed at him, in a horrifying and dissonant harmony with Elphaba's cries: he had to sleep. But he would not, nay _could_ not let himself sleep. He had to see this through. Even in Oz, in Gilikin high society, still-births happened. But even worse, they were not even _in_ Oz anymore. The way these people lived made even the poorest, most ignorant Munchkin's living quarters look like a mansion, a paragon of cleanliness and virtue.

"They are in the hands of the **LORD**," a holy man, one of the friars who stood at the door with Fiyero, said to him. "The woman and her child."

That seemed to be the only answer that made sense. Maybe that's how it worked: when the world and all that was in it had failed them, the One who they had forsaken was always there, ready to welcome them, no matter what they had done.

The doors opened.

"What is the time?" the mid-wife asked.

"Two minutes to midnight!" the friar said.

The mid-wife turned to Fiyero. "Come here, prince. Your troll-wife awaits you."

He didn't like that term. But then again, she _had_ seen Elphaba, when nobody else had. Even the King and Queen had not seen her as she was now, outside of her shrouds. He knew that the hurtful names would come, but so soon? It seemed to add insult to this tense moment.

Fiyero followed the mid-wife into their room. Two of the maids she had brought with her were washing blood-stained sheets. Next to the bed knelt Nessarose, looking quite disheveled, her reddish-brown hair falling out of its bun and hanging wildly around her head. Glinda was at the other side. There was no sign of Gudrun.

In the bed he saw Elphaba, her green skin glistening with sweat. Her hair was lying loose and matted about her head, drenched in the same sweat that was upon her head. In her arms was a bundle of clothes. Fiyero's heart skipped a beat.

"It's a boy." she said. Fiyero had never seen Elphaba seem so...lovingly.

In the bundle that was nestled in Elphaba's green arms, he saw a cute little face with bulging eyes hidden beneath heavy lids. A smile split Fiyero's face as he saw the little thing, so much of himself upon that tiny face.

A tear streaked down his face.

* * *

><p>Glinda was quite happy. Hours upon hours of fear and anxiety and pain were finally over. She had grown especially fearful when the mid-wife appeared. She almost balked at seeing Elphaba and her green skin. Glinda thought she heard the mid-wife whisper instructions to her maid-servants as they entered the room.<p>

"If that brat-ling looks anything like the mother, kill it. We don't need a changeling in our midst."

What did this mean? Whatever it meant, Glinda was fearful of whatever might happen. At finally two minutes before midnight, the deed was done. The bloody being was finally pushed out from between Elphaba's legs, and almost nine months of turmoil were over.

She noticed that Gudrun had finally left the room, walking out to the balcony of the room. Glinda waited until Fiyero and Elphaba were in each other's arms, with Nessa looking with love at the little baby. She walked out to the balcony, following Gudrun. She was humming a tune, then broke out into words in her native tongue...

_Mondlicht, Sie halten mich nachts sicher_  
><em>Und ich weiß, dass du hier bist, wenn ich falle<em>

She turned around to see her young friend walking up to where she stood.

"Sorry," Gudrun blushed. "It's an old song about love and change. It's just so strange, to me, how the ways of the world change. Your friends, they're so young, yet they're already father and mother to a child. One day, they will be much older, as old as my parents, and that babe will be a man someday."

It was enough to make Glinda's head spin, just thinking about all of this.

All of what had transpired between her and Elphaba seemed totally forgotten in the midst of this new development, the birth of this healthy young boy.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: I've had trouble getting to writing anything, but I hope this is working for you.)<strong>

**(The words are the chorus from the song "Leaves Eyes" by _Leaves Eyes_. ****It's quite lovely, and it seemed to fit with what happened in this story.)**

**(A little tension, but that also is intentional. It's significant for what will happen later on, I assure you. If you can guess what I've been dropping hints about through this and the last chapter [as well as throughout _The Witch's Saga_], I will dispense virtual sweets of your choice!)**


	5. Identity Crisis

**(AN: Here we get to see just what happened at _The Witch's Saga_ and how Glinda could be in two places at once)**

**(As much as I don't mind Elphaba's verdigris, it doesn't feel right to have the superstitious people of 5th century Burgundy be okay with a green-skinned woman. That is why they call her 'troll-wife' and other such names. It also works in with the changeling. Not an important story aspect, but a bit of historically accurate superstition.)**

**(Now enjoy...and see if you can sift through my literary and mental mumbo-jumbo. lol)**

* * *

><p><strong>Identity Crisis<strong>

They had decided upon Liir. Elphaba did not know many boy names, and it did not feel right to call him Frex, after her father. Fiyero knew a few, and Glinda knew several - most of which ended in '-y', '-arkles', '-uggles', '-oopsies' or (Heaven forbid) '-ick.' Nessarose had wanted to suggest Frex, but held back for some reason. Gudrun's suggestions were the names of saints or apostles who had done some service to the Christ-God.

In the end, the couple agreed on Liir. It was a nice, neutral name that could be from both Munchkinland or the Vinkus.

Over the next few days, Elphaba found herself in quite a predicament. Baby Liir was hungry, but something was wrong with the mother. Months of malnourishment had taken its toll, and she didn't seem to be able to feed her own baby. In this, Fiyero could not be of any help. Nessarose wasn't much help either, since she had never had children. Gudrun, as virginal as she was, had a suggestion, one that Glinda wished them to accept.

Ask her mother.

The answer that Queen Grimhild gave was efficient, if anything, but also very cold. Elphaba had never thought of a wet-nurse as an option. Her earliest memories were of a time when she had been weaned already, and though Nessarose had had a wet-nurse, Elphaba knew that wasn't the way it should be.

It was my fault that was the case for Nessarose, she thought. And now it's my fault again that it will be the way for my son.

So it was that she found herself in her room alone, tears streaming down her green face. They hurt, but no more or less than any other tears that Fiyero, Glinda or even Nessarose had shed. Ha! Allergic to water.

She looked down at her body, wondering why she could not force herself to be able to feed her child. She had to be able to do something, anything. Part of her wondered if nursing her child herself was perhaps the best choice. While the others - namely the midwife - thought she was sleeping, she had heard some of the things she had said in whispers.

"Get a wet nurse immediately." was her advice to Glinda and Gudrun. "Better to have that babe suckled by a woman than that troll-mother."

She bit her lip back to keep from crying out. But what did she really expect? She was, after all, green. Oh, why did that happen? Why can I not feed my own child?

Why did Glinda act out as she did? It was one of the last things she had before her world exploded into the pain of childbirth. During that moment of heightened emotions, her magic eeked out without warning. She had visions of glass, of light and of darkness, it was all so overwhelming. But maybe her magic was somehow tied into her own nature, her reflexes...

Magic. That could be a reason, she told herself, to explain how Glinda could be in two places at once. She had the Grimmerie for a while, and maybe she had learned a thing or two from it. Maybe Glinda was more powerful than she had cared to admit.

Without thinking, she rose up off her bed. The swelling had started to go down, but she was still weak. With one green hand gripping the edge of the bed, she began to look around, hoping that, in the excitement of the birth, Glinda hadn't forgotten the Grimmerie. After all, if it had been burned by one of those nosy friars, then their only means of returning home might be lost with it.

Her fingers brushed against old leather as she reached behind the back-board of the bed. Her heart leaped beneath her dry, impotent chest. Reaching back, she pulled the old tome out into the dim candle-lit room. Thank Oz Glinda had stowed it away when she had!

She pulled the book open, finding that some of the pages did not pull apart. Some old books would grow sticky between the pages and would not come apart when pried. It seemed this way as she tried to flip through the pages. The book definitely had a mind of its own, this she had come to realize, but this seemed a little too much. As if the book were leading her somewhere, or paying heed to her unspoken request...

The page was violet and glowing like all the rest, but this page seemed different, somehow. The swirl of white letters were augmented with black stains in a flowing script. These did not move, but without the silvery words in place, they were the key without the puzzle, words without a rhyme. But the words had cleared up in places, enough for Elphaba to discern at least the title of the page, and therefore what purpose this spell served...

_To Split the Soul_

Instructions started to appear in the silvery-white words. Things that Elphaba had never heard of appeared, making the confusion even greater. Just then, in between a line of black graffiti and the word _Hore-cruxes_ there appeared a line of poetry, that looked more like the incantation of a charm.

Her fingers rested on the words, and suddenly all went dark. Not exactly black, but a kind of misty gray. She saw figures appearing out of the mist and walking toward her. One looked like a child, barely even ten years old. The other was a teenager almost nine years older. One of the figures looked thirteen years older than Elphaba, but there wasn't anything healthy or natural about how this creature looked. The last figure was hunched, with gray hair and gray clothing. Aside from the patch over the left eye of the gray crone, Elphaba noted something quite similar about these four.

They were all green.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Do you really need to ask?" the teen-aged green woman asked. Elphaba noted that she wore a blue uniform and beanie, similar to that which she herself wore back in her days at dear old...

"I remember," she breathed. "I've had this before, only it wasn't you four. Dr. Dillamond was there, and Nessa..._they_ were my conscience."

"'Conscience?'" the thirty-something green woman queried haughtily. "A convenient name for social conformity and timidity of all the _best_ things in life."

"She doesn't understand!" the little girl said. "She's not like the other one."

"Wait, what other one?" the living Elphaba asked.

"That pretty little thing," the thirty-something skeptic said. "The one with the blond hair and dung for brains."

"Don't make fun of her!" the little girl retorted. "I liked her!"

"Bite me!"

"Wait!" Elphaba held her hands up to silence them. "So...what is this? Are you all parts of my thoughts, parts of me?"

"Well done!" the teenaged green girl said.

"I guess Miss goody-goody _does_ have a brain in her head!" sneered the green skeptic.

"And just what is your problem?" Elphaba asked her older counterpart.

"I haven't the patience or stupidity for such foolishness as spirits, astral projection or _souls_!"

"Don't listen to her!" the little girl said. "She's just bitter at everything."

"And what right do _you_ have to be merry?" the green skeptic barked.

"But what does this mean?" Elphaba asked again.

"What does _any_ of it mean?" the thirty-something asked sarcastically. "It's all tick-tock and slight-of-hand, this magic crock! There's nothing to it, just a farce!"

"Why don't you shut up?"

This came from the old woman, who had remained silent for a while.

"Always b*tching about how unfair life has been to you," she laughed, a high, piercing cackle that sent shivers up Elphaba's spine. "Always fighting something, always doubting everything. And _I'm_ the one who's half-blind! You're _double_-blind! You wouldn't believe in Lurline if she appeared in front of you and spat in your face!"

"No need to disprove something that isn't real!" the thirty-something snorted all-knowingly.

"What happened to the spirit of adventure you used to have?" the little girl asked. "Always seeking, always wanting to discover something new! You were so inquisitive!"

Silence. Elphaba was trying to figure out all of this madness, but it seemed to keep jumping out of her reach.

"I _was_ that way," the green skeptic returned, as if trying to force herself to say something she didn't want to say. "But I looked under every rock, behind every spider-web and in every cave, and all I found was the same thing I had to begin with: _nothing_!"

"You're hopeless!" the old woman dismissed.

"Perhaps there _is_ no such thing as hope! Perhaps life is just a meaningless activity of going through motions until we're too tired to go through them anymore."

"And they call _me_ wicked!" the old woman said.

"Wait!" Elphaba held out her hands again. But they didn't wait, they just kept on arguing with each other. They seemed to grow more distant, however, while the old woman and Elphaba seemed the only ones still in the room.

"What _are_ you?" she asked at last.

"I can't believe I was ever that thick!" the old woman said, indicating to where the distant green women were arguing. "And you..." She turned to the living Elphaba. "Haven't you had enough of these dreams and visions to guess what happened? Or what _we_ mean, at least?"

Elphaba paused. Those dreams came for a reason: she was trying to find Glinda. But all it ended up being were just fragments of glass and beams of light.

"Glinda cast some sort of spell..." she mused aloud.

The old woman nodded. "There's more."

What more? Had she forgotten something? Were all those dreams just for nothing? Glass, shattered...shattered glass, light, glass beads...a blue dress covered in glass beads...

_Glinda!_

"_This_ spell."

"Warmer."

"So, then..." she deduced. "This spell..." _To Split the Soul_. "It split her soul, somehow."

"Yes!"

"In two?"

The old woman shook her head.

"Four?" She nodded. "Into four?" That would account for the flash-backs she complained about, the dreams of strange worlds and of going with them into Oz when she said that she hadn't left Worms.

"Yes," the old one finished. "Each piece equally her, yet...different."

As different as those four apparitions.

"We're not apparitions, darling. We're inside of _you_!"

Me? But when was I like this, like any of this? True, she had once been that young woman, full of optimism and a thirst for knowledge. But that woman had died when she was in the Throne Room of the Wizard and learned his terrible secret. Or maybe she _hadn't_ died? Nor had the little girl, so full of life and happiness, the one who had taken care of her sister, who was ready to kill for her, or even risk the dangers of the Grimmerie for her?

"But when have I ever been the other two?" she asked.

"_She_," the old woman said, indicating to the thirty-something skeptic. "Is the darkness inside of you, the one that has closed all the doors of her heart and mind, and therefore is nothing left but a dry, bitter old shell, yearning for escape...for death."

"Then what are you?"

"Oh, me?" she laughed. "I'm nothing. Just a possibility, a fore-shadowing of what might be, if certain circumstances occurred...or certain others _didn't_ take place."

"But your face," Elphaba said. "What happened to your face?"

"Hazard of growing old," the crone said. "And...other things."

"And your eye?"

"Oh, I got tired of carrying it around, and carved it out myself. Didn't need it anymore, not after it died and all. I can see _twice_ as far as I used to before!" She smiled a crooked, black-toothed grin and waved at her past incarnation.

In a sudden rush, Elphaba found herself back in her room in Worms.

She knew what had happened. Glinda had delved too deep into the Grimmerie, and had unlocked this particular secret. She used it to split herself, which accounted for how she said that she had been weaker. She had divided _herself_ into four pieces, and it must have made her quite unstable. But all this talk of darkness made Elphaba even more wary and suspicious. Until now, she had believed that the Grimmerie was dangerous, but only insomuch as an ax would be in the hand of a madman. It was a tool then, something that could be used for both good and harmful purposes. But this whole business of dividing souls sounded malicious from the beginning, as a kind of torture or a last resort to living that would make life unbearable.

With wary eyes, as if waiting for it to jump out at her, she placed the book back behind the head-board.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: I feel I've explained that too much, so there will be no need to wonder now what happened to Glinda. As for why Elphaba didn't turn green when she came to Midgard, that will be explained as well. Don't worry, more Nordic stuff will appear in the next chapter.)<strong>

**(The four women are, of course, aspects of Elphaba. The young one, the Shiz-student, the _book_ Elphaba and the old woman [her appearance is based on the WWotW from _The Witches of Oz_ mini-series, just older and not as menacing].)**

**(On a side note, I loved that series. It was closer to the books than the movie, but in the end [spoiler alert] Dorothy is not a heartless murderer, as in _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_. Watch it for yourself and see what I mean!)**

**(Tell us what you think while I flog my brains for more ideas for the next chapters)**


	6. The Marriage of Elphaba and Fiyero I

**(AN: So far, I've been busy trying to finish up watching _Rome_ while reading _Out of Oz_. I shan't be posting spoilers, though I'm not too pleased with what Maguire has done with his work. According to his vision, the whole world is fake, just fake people filled with fake feelings and fake everything! I, on the other hand, am a _real_ person.)**

**(In that light, let me also state - and this isn't a spoiler, not for those of you who have read _Wicked_ the book or seen the musical - that I'm going to have our heroine and her lover marry, but mostly because I believe in family and I don't think families should ever be separated. In Maguire's books, through some 'bizarre and unexpected twisters of fate', his children are estranged from their parents and do not love them, or worse! I don't like that, because children _need_ their parents. I feel for every orphan out there, my heart goes out to them - not so that I may look good or for some self-serving purpose [Mr. Maguire!], but because I know what it's like to live in a broken family. Personally, I have to ask myself this question - would I rather have no father or the Aryan devil of a father that I had?)**

**(Enough soap-boxing. It seems that a lot of the _Wicked _fan-fics, the ones I've read, follow through with the whole estranged/orphan deal. I want to be different because I know that that kind of neglect is not good for the children. But there I go again! I'm not even that far down the road and am already talking my rear off!)**

**(This chapter is somewhat of an adventure, but also a little bit fun, since our heroes get a few precious moments of peace before all hell breaks loose [quite literally, in fact]. It will also be quite long.)**

* * *

><p><strong>The Marriage of Elphaba and Fiyero I<strong>

It did not take long for Elphaba's body to be ready to feed her child. Perhaps it was the difference with her body, or the lack of food, but it took a little longer than usual. However, once all was done and her body was ready, she found baby Liir snuggled up next to her bosom.

Whatever had caused Glinda to explode and talk as she had - Elphaba was still wary that she might be the darkest part of the glass - seemed to have subsided. Now she was hanging out with Elphaba and Nessarose, enjoying the company of the adorable baby Liir.

"Oh, Elphie," Glinda said, with a smile on her pretty face. "He's so adorable!" She was holding the baby, looking down at the little smushed face with its reddish-pink nose and huge, gazing eyes.

"I think he has your eyes." she said.

"I thought he had Fiyero's eyes," Elphaba said.

"He's perfect, Elphaba." Nessa stated. "You and Fiyero have done well."

"Thanks, sis." They had grown significantly closer in the last few days than in twenty-two years together.

Nessa turned to Glinda, hands beckoning out to her. The blond brushed her nose against Liir's tiny red button of a nose and then gave the child to her aunt.

"I'm so happy for you, Elphaba." both Glinda and Nessa said at once. Nessa laughed and Glinda giggled. Oh, they felt like it was Shiz again: everyone back together...

Except for Boq.

"Elphaba?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you and Fiyero ever considered, well," Nessa blushed, feeling so old-fashioned among the rule-breaking Elphaba and her friend. "I mean, have you two considered ever marrying?"

Elphaba sighed. "We haven't had much time for that, Nessa. We've been on the run practically every moment for a little over a year."

"It's true." Glinda said.

"And we can't go back to Oz, Fiyero and I." Elphaba said. "Not if we want to be safe...especially Liir."

"But do you _have_ to go back to Oz to be married?" Nessa asked. "I doubt I'd be able to go back either, being that I'm supposed to be dead and everything." She handed Liir back to his mother. "So why not stay here, get married?"

"This isn't our time," Elphaba returned.

"Still," Nessa insisted. "You've got to get married sooner or later. I..." She turned and walked out of the room, not willing to say what was on her mind.

"You know," Glinda said, once Nessa had left. "I've always wondered what we would do. I mean, we can't go back to Oz, so what do we do, then? Wander the worlds until we're too old to travel?"

"There's got to be a world somewhere that will accept us," Elphaba said at last, sighing.

* * *

><p>Fiyero was outside, near a blacksmith's forge in the castle yard. His quest for answers had run dry, since nobody wanted to give answers to the wild prince from Nowhere Land. Or perhaps they had discovered that it was <em>his<em> marriage that was to be taking place soon...his marriage to the green creature. He had been away from her almost since the birth of their child. Thought he, the time could be used to learn things in the world.

Apparently not the case.

"Find what you're looking for?"

Fiyero turned around, and saw that he was addressed by the blacksmith. He was a middle-aged man, with black hair and beard streaked with gray. His frame was still sturdy, forged by years upon years of work as a blacksmith.

"Not exactly," Fiyero returned. It amazed him, however, that, as different as these people of Worms were - these Burgundians, as they called themselves - they knew their language as if it were the same as Ozian.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance?" the smithy asked.

Fiyero chuckled. "Not bloody likely. Probably haven't been outside the confines of this city."

"That's where you'd be wrong, child." the man said, placing the hot metal he had into the barrel of water, to the angry protest of steam from the water. He then rubbed his hands on his apron.

"Oh, is it, now?" Fiyero asked. "I don't even know your name, and yet you want me to expect..."

"That I've been around?" the smith was now standing near Fiyero. He wasn't that tall, it seemed, but still looked quite a sight.

"Name's Voland," He extended his blackened hand to Fiyero. He returned by gripping the arm with his entire arm. It seemed the right thing to say.

"Prince Tiggular," he returned.

A pause.

"You don't bow?"

"I've bowed to princes before," Voland said. "And as far as I'm concerned, I won't bow down to another lord who doesn't deserve my loyalty."

"That kind of talk won't keep you alive for that long, you know."

"Odin protects me," Voland returned. "He commissioned me to make Gram for Volsung, the King of Hunaland."

"Where's that?" Fiyero asked.

"Who knows," Voland returned. "Some say it's where Atli and his people come from, some say it's west of the Rhine, others say it's in the Lowlands." He shrugged. "All I did was make the sword, and Odin promised that I wouldn't die until I had made my masterpiece."

Fiyero nodded.

"Still," Voland continued. "I know a few things that might interest you."

"You've already told me enough to make my head spin," Fiyero admitted. "First of all, who is Atli?"

Voland looked about here and there, then took Fiyero into the secrecy of his blacksmith's hut.

"They call him Etzel in Worms," he said. "He's the king of the Huns, barbaric warriors from the east. They've been burning and pillaging on their way westward, toward Rome." Noting Fiyero's quizzical look, he continued. "The heart of the Christian faith, I believe. That's where their missionaries come from, those friars and priests."

"What does Etze..."

"Shh!" Voland hushed. "The Huns are a very _real_ threat. From what I've seen, the Burgundians don't want to talk about Atli, so I don't call him by the local name."

"Okay, then. What does Atli want?"

"Who really knows?" Voland asked. "Some say it has something to do with a botched marriage proposal. The Roman Emperor's sister offered her hand in marriage to Atli, and he accepted...asking half of the Empire as a dowry. Some say it's a delayed response to this new faith from Rome." He shook his head. "I think there's more to it than _either_ reason."

"What's that?"

"The hoard on the Glittering Heath," Voland said. "A year ago, some Geatish warrior slew the dragon Fafnir. As a result, the gold of Fafnir is open for all takers."

"You think Atli is after the gold?"

"Maybe," Voland said. "But more on that later, there's something that I think you might find _personally_ interesting."

Fiyero paused when he heard Voland place so much emphasis on _'personally_'.

"What do you mean?"

"There is a temple," he said. "In the land of Jutland to the north of here. It is said that a piece of the sky fell to earth on that spot, the will of Odin, and a temple was made over it." He pointed to Fiyero with his hammer.

"It's yours."

"Mine?" he mimed. "I get a piece of the sky?"

"Odin told me of its _true_ origin, and it's from your world."

Fiyero's mouth went dry. From what he had gathered, Odin was the chief of their gods - of those who did not worship the Christ - and was said to know everything. Did he know that he and Elphaba (and the others) were not from this world? A new thought erupted in his chest...

Could Odin be the key to returning home?

"It's yours," Voland repeated. "The _Alfadir_ said it was some kind of metal, and told me to tell you to find it, and bring it back to me. I will forge it into the sword for your marriage."

"Marriage?"

Voland laughed. "Hertyr knows everything...even the future. He has allowed you to know this much, that your woman is desirous to be wed to you. Oh, by the way," he paused, placing his hammer down. "Is she indeed green?"

"Yeah." Fiyero returned. After all, it seemed as though Voland knew about this already. Fiyero felt rather nervous with this all-knowing god peering down his shoulder and seeing everything that was going on, especially without their permission.

"Oh, it must be quite a sight to see!"

_Yeah, that's for certain_. Fiyero thought. But he also didn't know what to make of Voland's response. It sounded as if he was not afraid, or even disgusted, with the notion of someone so...different. That was not the case with the people of Worms, as he had seen...

But this man?

"So?" Voland asked again. "Are you going off to find the Temple of Jutland or will your woman have a weaker sword?"

All Fiyero could do was nod, his mouth hanging agape.

* * *

><p>Finally, he got a chance to see her!<p>

"You look great, Fae." he said, after holding her in a tight embrace for a good, long while. They shared a kiss, interrupted by Nessarose imitating a cough.

"I've missed you, Yero," Elphaba returned, then she presented the bundle in her arms. "And baby Liir has been yearning to see you too." She gave the bundle into Fiyero's arms. He kissed the baby on its wee little nose, then handed it back to his mother.

"Sorry I haven't been able to be here sooner," Fiyero said. "These Burgundians, they have strange customs. They pretty much kept me from you for the past few days."

"But you're here now," Elphaba beamed.

There was a moment of silence, as Fiyero and Elphaba were lost in each other's eyes while Glinda and Nessa simply stood there, looking uncomfortable.

"Uh, listen," Fiyero said at last. "Fae, I know we've been together...what, almost a year now?"

"Sixteen months," Elphaba stated. "More or less."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "About that. Maybe it's time we take our relationship to the next level."

"What do you mean?"

"Elphaba," he blushed, stroked his beard, then shook his head and looked back at his green beloved. "Will you marry me?"

Even if her mouth had not been hanging open, Elphaba could not have said much more for lack of speech at this statement. Glinda threw her hands up over her mouth and Nessa took a step back, her hand grabbing hold of the nearest bed-post to steady herself.

"F-Fiyero," she gasped at last. "Are you sure..." Her face lessened in surprise, a smile on her face. "...that you can handle that kind of responsibility?"

"Not really," he shook his head honestly. "But I promise I'll do my best."

She smiled fondly at him, then waved him forward. He knelt at her side and leaned in as close as he could. Elphaba kissed him on the mouth, then placed one arm around his shoulders - the other being busy holding baby Liir.

"Yes, I will marry you." she returned.

They both beamed, and Nessa was now smiling.

"Oh Sweet Oz!" squealed Glinda from behind her hands. "It's really gonna happen! Elphie and Fifi are getting married!"

"'Fifi?'" Nessa asked, a quizzical look on her face as she turned to Glinda.

Elphaba and Fiyero rolled their eyes, then turned back to each other.

"Oh, Elphaba, I'm so happy!" Nessa finally said.

"Yes!" Glinda abruptly stated "We're all _so_ happy for you!" Her outburst was so sudden, not to mention loud, that everyone was now looking at her. She chuckled nervously.

"In fact," she said, quickly recovering. "It's so wonderful that I'm going to go tell Gudrun, if I'm allowed to, that is."

"I don't see why not." Elphaba replied.

Glinda nodded awkwardly then turned tail and walked out of the room.

* * *

><p>Glinda made her way down the halls of the castle, oblivious to anything else that was happening around her. Her two best friends had just announced that they would be married. It was to be the happiest event in the past eighteen months of their lives together.<p>

_So why am I so upset_, Glinda asked herself rhetorically.

She knew the answer, of course. It was why she had deceived them in the first place, and it did not banish itself so easily as now. Fiyero and Elphaba were going to be married and she was going to be left out again.

"Ah, Glinda!" she turned around to see Queen Grimhild and her daughter Gudrun walking together down one end of the hall. "I was just thinking about you."

"Really?" Glinda asked.

"Yes," she nodded. "I was wondering if you would care to reconsider my offer."

"Marry Gotthorm?"

"Perhaps," Grimhild continued. "After all, it would be a pity to waste such a pretty face on the lonely life of a spinster."

Glinda smiled nervously, not sure what to say about that statement. She hadn't really thought about growing old. After all, she was only twenty-two, or maybe twenty-three. There were no calendars in the places they went that kept straight time from when they had left Oz.

"Shouldn't Glinda be allowed to choose whoever she wants to wed, Mother?" Gudrun asked.

"Why, of course not!" Grimhild laughed, as if the idea were so absurd. "If there's anything those Roman monks have right, it's that a woman should know her place."

"But Mother..."

"Enough! It is the way of our ancestors," she continued. "We must be content to submit ourselves to the rule of men, knowing..." She smiled deviously. "That by doing so, _we_ are in control of them."

This struck Glinda as odd. In Oz, there really wasn't much question about gender roles. After all, women more often than not in Ozian history rose to positions of importance and power, and on their own merits. Such names as Lurline, Preenella and the dreaded Kumbric Witch came to mind, as well as Oz's erstwhile ruler the Ozma, held to be Lurline's daughter. Glinda realized that she had taken them for granted, that everyone treated women with the same kind of respect as in Oz.

In Midgard, it seemed, that kind of equality was not present.

"Now, Glinda," Grimhild continued. "We must needs marry you off as soon as possible. I will make all the arrangements, and soon you will be my step-daughter." She embraced Glinda in a kind of detached, formal way, then picked up her skirts and walked out of the hall.

"I'm sorry, Glinda," Gudrun said. "I wish there were something I could do, but she's my mother and I have to obey her."

"Who says so?" Glinda asked.

"But," Gudrun started. "It-It is the way of things. If I disobey her, then all the people would disobey her and my father's kingdom would collapse."

"What about you?" she continued. "Where does what _you_ want figure into your mother's plans?"

Gudrun came to a halt, unable to answer.

"W-Well," she said at last. "What is it _you_ want?"

Glinda came to a halt. What _did_ she want? To be loved by all? To have her fairy-tale ending? To get revenge on Elphaba for...for what? It seemed silly to be wanting vengeance on her for something that seemed so distant, and for what they had already apologized over...

Still...

* * *

><p>That night, while all were more or less asleep, the occupants of one room could not sleep. A certain new-born needed to be fed, which meant that his mother was woken in the midst of the night to feed her child. The father, however, was weary with thought...much thought. More thought, he thought, than he had ever thought about thinking ever before.<p>

Apparently, Elphaba noticed this.

"Yero?" she queried softly. "What is it? You look worried."

He sighed, nodded, but said nothing else.

"Yero, what's wrong? You can tell me."

"I have to go," he said at last. "I have to leave."

"Why?" Elphaba asked. "Liir's just been born and you're already leaving us?"

"No, it's not like that!" he sighed uneasily.

"Then what _is_ it like, Yero, because from here it looks like you're..."

Fiyero placed his arms around Elphaba, attempting to calm her. People were asleep still, throughout the castle.

"Listen," he began. "I want to marry you, Fae. That's still true: I want to marry you and be with you always. But a few days ago, I spoke with this strange old man." Elphaba suddenly became attentive.

"No, not _that_ old man." Fiyero returned. "He said that there was something of Oz here in this world."

Elphaba gasped. "I don't b-...how is that possible?"

"I don't know," he smirked. "I'm the one without brains, remember?"

She kissed him. "Not anymore."

"Yea, well either way, I need to find it and make sure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

"And how does _that_ figure into us getting married?"

"I'll marry you when I get back," Fiyero stated. "Besides, the old man told me that it's customary for the groom to give the bride a sword as a wedding gift. Do you still have your Elvish sword?"

Elphaba thought back, trying to remember when she last wielded the sword. A sudden memory of a large black figure with lidless eyes of fire and a fierce duel atop a high tower brought it back into her mind. She shook her head.

"Then this will be my gift to you." he said. "The old man said he'd make a sword for me if I retrieved it."

Elphaba sighed. This all seemed very silly: why split them up so early on for nothing more than a sword? Should they not remain together, especially since they were in a foreign world with no idea of how to get back to their own?

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: More cliffhangers! Originally this was going to be one big, giant chapter, but decided against that. Here is the first part. The second part, which will include the adventure, will be coming a.s.a.p.)<strong>


	7. The Marriage of Elphaba and Fiyero II

**(AN: Here is the promised second part of the last chapter.)**

**(I don't know, this story is starting to lag. People aren't reviewing it and I'm just losing enthusiasm. That's why I haven't updated it as frequently as my other stories. Part of me wants to cut my losses and end the story now, but, for those who are still reading this tale [who?], I still have one more story after this one before I can bring _Ozian Adventures_ to a point I can satisfyingly leave it at until such a time as I [or any other] might want to continue the series.)**

**(I need to be getting back, mostly, to the Nordic aspects of this story as well as what it means for our characters to be...well, who they are. This is where reviews would be _very_ helpful, because I feel that I've deviated too much from what the characters _should_ be as opposed to how I portray them.)**

**(Or maybe it's just at that awful transitory phase which is always hard? I don't know, just read.)**

* * *

><p><strong>The Marriage of Elphaba and Fiyero II<strong>

Nessarose served as Elphaba's eyes and ears. Glinda seemed quite aloof ever since Fiyero left, keeping much to herself or socializing with Queen Grimhild and Princess Gudrun. Elphaba was more or less trapped in her room, with baby Liir to be nursed and her skin keeping her imprisoned.

_That one night, after Fiyero left, Nessarose remembered Elphaba was awake, crying. She tip-toed into her room, careful not to wake sleeping Liir - though how he could sleep through his mother's soft sobbings was a miracle all-together._

_"Elphaba, what's wrong?" Nessarose asked._

_"It's nothing," she had returned._

_"I know you better than that," Nessarose replied. "You don't cry for no reason."_

_"Then if you've known me for so long," Elphaba whispered. "You'd know that I can't live like this: trapped in a tower, afraid to go down there because of my skin! This is not right! We don't belong here!"_

_"I know," Nessa nodded. "Believe me, if there were anything I could do to help, I would do it."_

_"But you can't," Elphaba coldly replied. "You can't make them love me regardless of my skin, you can't find a way to spirit us back home. Oh, what in Oz's name am I saying? Oz is hardly a home, they hate me there!"_

_"Elphaba..."_

_"Why can't, for just once, I have my way?" Elphaba replied. "I've always been 'the strong one', 'the smart one', the one who makes sacrifices for everyone else. Well, I'm tired of making sacrifices! I'm sick of being caged up, grounded and-and forced to live behind everyone else! When will it be_ my_ time again?"_

_Nessarose felt for Elphaba. She knew that she did not like being 'caged' and limited, but just listening to her speak. She never believed Elphaba was capable of speaking such things: it was as though she had forgotten everything she once fought for, everything she once believed in, and now became like a spoiled child, yearning for everything...and for nothing._

But Nessarose kept this inside of her. She was happy to be alive, and to be with Elphaba, that she refused to let that go or endanger that: to Nessarose, solitude was death. So she smiled, and said that she would do whatever Elphaba needed.

That included spying on everything that went on in Worms.

She was hiding behind a pillar in the throne room, just apart from where King Gjuki and Queen Grimhild were discussing something. Nearby, on two seats set lower than the thrones, Nessarose saw Princess Gudrun and Glinda. She had to bite back a gasp, for she hadn't seen Glinda in a while.

"...you know as well as I do," the King said. "They don't care what happens to us here in the south."

"They will come, my lord," the Queen returned.

"I still doubt it." the King replied.

"Surely you don't want the Huns coming down upon us?"

The way they spoke, with such hushed, whispering voices, indicated to Nessarose that these 'Huns' weren't exactly to be trifled with, not in the least.

"Rome will come to our aid." Gjuki said.

"Rome," Grimhild scoffed. "If you had to wait for deliverance from Rome, you would just as soon surrender to the Huns!"

"Don't even say that! You know they don't take prisoners!" The King sighed. "Very well, we will...we will prepare for the Althingi. It assembles at the end of the month."

Nessarose was worried. The Huns, whatever or whoever they were, with the fear they seemed to inspire with the very mention of their names, were on their way towards Worms.

_Oh, hurry Fiyero!_ she wished. _Return from wherever you went soon, so we can get out of here before the Huns arrive!_

* * *

><p>The camp was very solemn. After all, these monks seemed like a very quiet type. They rarely spoke, and when they did, it was only a few words at a time. Fiyero wondered why: had they made vows of silence, or was it just totally against their code of ethics or beliefs or whatever to speak to strangers?<p>

Either way, they said they were going to Jutland, and Fiyero thought it best to tag along, rather than go it alone in a world that he was _still_ very unfamiliar with.

By and by, they arrived in a wide valley that was just lightly covered in snow. Upon a high hill stood the Temple, and here Fiyero decided that it would be time to take his leave. For as the monks waited at their camp-site in the valley, he heard what they were up to.

"We must destroy this place, brothers," the eldest of the monks said. "These demons have held the good people of Jutland in captivity for far too long!"

"Father," one of the younger monks spoke up. "Forgive me, I mean no disrespect, but why are we doing this? Did not our **LORD** say to not resist evil, but to turn the other cheek?"

"He also said that there is no covenant between God and Belial!" the older monk returned.

"But many people have been destroying our own churches as well, father," he continued. "Are we not repaying violence with violence? Did our **LORD** not tell St. Peter that whoever lives by the sword shall perish by the sword?"

The old monk smiled. "My son, you are hopeful beyond hope. But it cannot be so. These men are faithless, therefore we must destroy their false gods, that their faith will wain."

"But should we not win them over through our good deeds? Through faith in the **LORD** Jesus Christ, hope in His salvation and the charity of all good Christian brothers?"

"Silence!" the old monk shouted. "How dare you presume to instruct your teacher! You shall receive the cat's tail thirty times as a penance for your insolence."

While they were distracted, Fiyero took his leave. It was now or never. He had to get into the temple and steal the stone, or else it would be destroyed once these misguided ones completed their task.

_What a fix I've gotten myself into_, Fiyero thought, as the monks' camp-fire dwindled in the distance. The land was now steadily rising.

_I should be there with Elphaba,_ he continued. _Oz knows she's been in the dumps ever since...well, ever since she couldn't do anything because she was carrying our son. Instead of being a responsible dad, I ran off to find some piece of stone because a stranger said it was from Oz._

_No,_ he returned. _I _need_ to do this. I need to prove t__o Elphaba that I'm not just some brainless fool. I can do things, I can be brave, I can be the husband she needs._

_And finding this piece of stone is going to prove that?_

He passed through the old gate of the temple, now entering upon a court lined with huge standing stones. In the midst of them was something black that was very cold as Fiyero put his hand upon it.

_Now what was that old rhyme my governess told me about precious stones? Oh, I never paid attention to them, I was always trying to outwit them, do something to get my parents' attention..._

_Veridium black under the ground  
>Kissed by fire, green like Ozma Town<em>

It was an old one, older, it seemed, than the Wizard. Or, at least, created during the early days of the Wizard's rule, before the city was known as the Emerald City. Silly sounding enough.

_Well_, Fiyero thought. _Here's to hoping..._

He reached out and grabbed a piece of the rock. It was veridium, there was no doubt about that. As his hand seized the rock, it broke apart easily. Not exactly a very convincing first impression, to be sure, but that was how the stories went.

The stories. Always the fun, exciting adventure stories that his nannies and governesses told him - at least when he wanted to be there - he listened to those. Veridium crept in and out of Ozian lore. The first people to find it were the Arjiki in the caves beneath the Greater Kells. It was a soft black stone that broke easily, and yet, once it had passed through the crucible of fire, a green metal could be extracted from the black ore, harder than any substance in all of Oz.

"Thieves!" an old, shaky voice shouted. "Bandits! They steal the holy stone! Now! After him!"

Fiyero turned around, fearing that he had been discovered. But he had little to fear. Several peasants and warriors were now stumbling towards him, hands outstretched and mumbling beneath their breath. In the dim light, Fiyero could see the glint of something metal around their necks: it was the sign of the hammer.

One of the warriors gave a cry, looking down between his feet, then ran straight into the wall of the temple. When it did not budge, he pounded on it, wailing and shrieking, then ran himself through with his sword.

At the sound of his cries, several others started freaking out, jumping on each other with their bare hands or waving their swords about madly. One of the peasants went down and several men jumped on him, snarls and the sickening sound of flesh tearing all that followed.

Seizing his opportunity, Fiyero decided to give them the slip as they were frightened. He quietly tip-toed towards the entrance of the temple, when suddenly...

"The straw man!" one of the peasants screamed. "It's the straw man!"

Like a child, he threw himself to the ground, crying out and screaming in fear. But his words made Fiyero worry. What had happened to him? He had seen that Elphaba's spell was negated when they first passed through the Clock of the Time Dragon to Middle-Earth. But had it changed? Had touching a piece of Oz turned him back into what he once was?

* * *

><p>In Worms, things were getting especially triumphant. A warrior from the land of the Geats and his Valkyrie protector had come to the city. Nessa only remembered scant images of a tall, muscle-bound warrior who made remarks about how small and frail she was...<p>

Compared to his horse.

However, when she told this information to Elphaba, she became ecstatic. Now she was up and about, dressing herself and asking to see this Geat, whom she called Sigurd, as soon as possible.

They met at night, in the empty mead-hall. Everyone else had gone off to their rooms and now it was abandoned, save for a single lad who kept the fire. Two cloaked and hooded figures appeared, then the two strangers and finally...

"Glinda!" the voice of one of the cloaked strangers hissed.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed back.

"Yes," Sigurd said. "Why all this secrecy? I have nothing to hide."

"No," the second stranger whispered. "But we do." She removed her hood.

"Elphaba!" Sigurd cried out. He strode over and placed his arm around the brunette's shoulder. "I have not seen you in a year."

"I'm not Elphaba!" the brunette shivered, trying to release Sigurd's huge hand from off her shoulder. "Please, let go of me. You don't know me."

"She's right," the Valkyrie said, speaking in the language of Germania. "That's not the same presence I sensed when we parted." She walked over to the shaking brunette, looking her up and down.

"But we've definitely met before." she said at last.

Nessarose didn't say anything, but kept the two strangers in her watchful gaze.

"Sigurd?" the first hooded figure spoke. "Brynhildr? It's me. _This_ is Elphaba." They turned to her. "I apologize for the secrecy, but..."

The moment of truth came at last, and Elphaba removed her hood. Even in the orange glow of the fire, they could see her true color. The lad at the fire gave a yelp and ran.

"_Guder over!_" Brynhildr exclaimed.

"What trickery is this?" Sigurd added. "_I_ have the Helm of Fear, not you."

"I know," Elphaba said at last. "I don't know how, or why, but..."

"A spell, probably," Sigurd said. "Some evil witch has cast a curse upon you, making you this color."

"No, I've always been green." Elphaba said at last.

"You were not so when we first met," Brynhildr said.

"I-I can't explain how it happened," Elphaba replied. "But I...I hope this changes nothing between us."

"Elphaba," Sigurd said. "I swear to you that once Worms is free of the threat of the Huns, I will not rest until I have found a way to lift this curse!"

Elphaba said nothing. Perhaps Sigurd was not as knowledgeable up-top as she thought him to be.

"Uh," she turned to her sister. "This is my sister Nessarose."

"I recognized your presence when we first met," Brynhildr said, greeting Nessa with a curt nod of the head. "It is good that you are once again to your own person."

"Uh, thanks...I think." Nessa returned.

"And...and I'm..."

"Glinda!" Sigurd returned. "I remember you."

"But I don't remember you."

"Glinda, not here!" Elphaba bit back, before turning to Sigurd and Brynhildr. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to my tower before the good people of Worms think a troll-wife has come to steal their children out of their beds!"

Elphaba sulked back, with Nessarose giving Sigurd and Brynhildr appropriate good-byes. Glinda took one last look at them, then walked back the way she had come.

In the hallway that lead from the mead hall to the king's chambers, Grimhild and Gudrun waited as Glinda joined them.

"Well?" the queen asked. "What is he like?"

"He's handsome," Glinda said at last. "And he looks strong, _very_ strong."

"That's not what I want to know," Grimhild hissed. "Did you see this?" She held up from her breast the little hammer amulet that she wore at all times.

"Yes," Glinda nodded. "Both of them have one."

"Good," Grimhild smiled. "This may be just what I need: a strong, handsome prince, loyal to the faith of our fathers, to woo _you_ away from your idle ways..." She turned to Gudrun. "And a stern Valkyrie to bring Gunnar back to the true path of the gods."

Glinda sighed. She felt like a pawn, a tool, once again. Despite anything she may have had against Elphaba, she now remembered that day in the Emerald City, when all was supposed to be happiness and good feelings after her engagement to Fiyero. She was the most rotten-feeling person in all of Oz. Now she felt that way again.

"But," Glinda interjected.

"But what?"

"I saw their hands," Glinda said. "There's a ring on the woman's hand. I think she's wed or married, or whatever."

"So?" Grimhild returned.

"Well, you can't just force a married couple apart!"

At this, Grimhild struck Glinda across the face.

"I can do whatever I want," she hissed. "If it's in my best interest and that of the faith of my fathers! Don't you forget that, slave!" She then seized Gudrun's wrist and walked off down the hall, Gudrun mouthing "I'm sorry" as she left.

* * *

><p>"I should be," Nessa said. "I'm her sister, after all."<p>

"Well, I'm her best friend, her _only_ friend, ever!" Glinda returned.

This back-and-forth debate went on as the day Fiyero predicted that he would return drew near. It brought Elphaba, Nessa and Glinda back together and Elphaba back into good spirits.

"Hey!" Elphaba interjected, baby Liir in her arms. "Why all the fighting?"

"We need to decide who's gonna be your bridesmaid!" Glinda exclaimed.

"This is a happy occasion!" Elphaba stated.

"I'm sorry," Nessa replied. "It's just, I mean, we're all so anxiously nervous about today."

"Or nervously anxious!" Glinda added.

Elphaba smiled. "Well, I only think it's best that, as I like both of you, you _both_ should be bridesmaids."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Nessarose ran to answer it and there stood Gudrun, looking a little bemused.

"Uh," she stammered. "My lady the Queen has demanded that your wedding be performed in the traditional manner. But don't worry, I will make sure that nothing goes wrong."

"Well, that's very kind of you," Elphaba said bluntly.

"There's also something else, uh..." she took a step back. "I found these ones asking around for the green woman. Apparently they must know you." She looked out through the open door, waved someones inside then bowed and took her leave.

"The old man!" Elphaba muttered.

"Hello, green child," the old man said. "I'm glad that I'm not the only one who can see you as you should be."

"As I _should_ be?" Elphaba nigh shouted. "What do you mean?"

"I've seen much, young lady," he pointed out. "And it is the will of Odin the All-father that you walk this land in the manner by which you were born: as green as the leaves of Yggdrasil."

"B-B-But she wasn't green when we _first_ came here!" Glinda pointed out.

"Oh, I know." the old man nodded. "But now is a time for celebration, not revelations. I hear that you and that young prince are to be married."

"How did you know?" Elphaba asked suspiciously.

"I just knew," the old man said at last. "I believe it is the custom in your land that the bride receive four gifts after this rhyme:

_Something Old and Something New  
>Something Borrowed and Something Blue<em>

He turned to the other two who were behind him, an old woman who looked just as gray and worn as the old man, and a younger woman with straw-colored hair. In fact, were it not for the ragged clothing she wore, she would be just about perfect.

"I cannot say," the old man said. "That we can give you _all _of those gifts - I daresay your love is on his way here with something borrowed as it is. But, here is something that I'm sure you have missed for a long time." The old man reached into a sack that hung from his back and pulled out something in black, with a tall pointed end.

Elphaba gasped.

"Where did you get that? I-I haven't seen that since..."

"A fair while?" he mused. "But, here. It is returned to it's rightful owner."

"What happened to that?" Glinda whispered, looking in awe at the black witch's hat. "I thought you lost it at Kiamo Ko."

"It fell off my head when we went through the portal to..." Elphaba began, but quieted as the old woman approached.

"I'm hardly the one to be giving new things, child," the old woman said. "But take this just the same..." To Elphaba's surprise, the old woman gave her a staff. It was about four feet high, thin and sturdy. At its head was a silver cap with letters and runes fashioned upon it.

"A staff?" Elphaba asked.

"A good witch needs a sturdy rudder to guide her through the twisters of fate, eh?" the old woman winked. "But this staff will serve as more than a support in the days ahead. Use it well, child." She stepped back, and was replaced by the younger woman.

"To be precise," she began. "This could be something old as well, _very_ old. Perhaps when you come to happier times, you will find a use for this other than a travel-gown."

To Elphaba's extreme surprise, the young woman brought out the blue Elvish dress that Elphaba had worn all through her travels in Middle-Earth. No longer was it old, frayed and worn, but new and clean, as if just newly come from the looms of Imladris.

She looked up, wanting to speak to them, ask them how they were able to retrieve these gifts, or why she was being given them? But they had vanished, as if they had never been there to begin with. All that remained that was proof that they had been there were the gifts: a hat, a dress and a staff.

* * *

><p>Friday dawned at last.<p>

Fiyero had returned, but had not seen Elphaba when he appeared. He spent all of his time at Voland's smith. Voland heated the black veridium ore, then extracted the hot green liquid and poured it into his mold. The mold also was different from those others that sat in the smith. Voland told Fiyero that it was given to him specifically by the All-father for this purpose.

Once the metal had set, still bright green, Voland took iron tongs and placed it upon the anvil. A hammer in his hand, he began to pound out all the uneven marks and fashion the blade into what it would soon be once complete. Fiyero watched in awe as the blade transformed into something beautiful, slender and curved as Elphaba's Elven blade had been, yet wholly different.

There came a moment when Voland dropped his hammer, took up a smaller one and a chisel, and began carving something upon the blade. But it passed and when Fiyero asked him, he could not remember what he had written or why. The work then commenced, with Voland placing the steel into the water, where it seethed and bubbled.

At last, he presented Fiyero with the finished product. A fine blade it was, beautiful yet deadly. There was as yet no sheath of leather for it, so Voland wrapped it in a cloak and gave it to Fiyero.

"Now," he said. "We've got to get you ready for your wedding."

Voland led Fiyero to a certain house that had steam billowing out of the windows. Voland disrobed down to his loin-cloth and told Fiyero to do likewise. Once done, albeit reluctantly on Fiyero's end, Voland led him into the house, where all was hot and steamy. Here they sat down.

"So," Fiyero said. "What is this?"

"This is a bath-house," Voland said. "The Finns call it a 'sauna', if I'm not mistaken. It's part of the ceremony, you wash away the old self and prepare to take on your duties as the head of your new household."

Fiyero only half-listened to what Voland said, reciting verses of old about how to maintain a happy life with his beloved. Most of these, he thought, wouldn't apply to Elphaba. She wasn't like every other women. But his ears perked up when he heard that she, also, had been here.

"Why couldn't we have done this together?" he asked.

"It's tradition that the man and woman not see each other until the ceremony of the wedding."

Fiyero was only a little bummed out about this - mostly because it prevented him from saying something about water. But now the moment was fast upon him.

* * *

><p>After the bath-house, Fiyero was met with by none other than Sigurd. He was fully clad and had with him a pair of new clothes.<p>

"Here," he said. "This gift is for you, from the old man." Fiyero placed on first the green scarecrow clothes that he often wore beneath his regular clothes, then looked at what Sigurd had. It was magnificent: a black shirt and trousers, with lines of gold-thread woven through them. He smiled as he noticed Arjiki-clan symbols etched into the fabric upon the shirt. As he put this on, he noticed that he looked more like a prince than ever before.

"Will you still go through with this wedding, my friend?" Sigurd asked.

"Sure, why not?" Fiyero asked.

"Well, it's just that some serious malady has afflicted your beloved," Sigurd replied. "Methinks it is a spell of some evil..."

"Well, I don't care," Fiyero returned. "I will be the first man in all of...where is this again?"

"Worms!" Sigurd said. "Midgard!" Voland replied.

"That's it! I'll be the first man in all of Midgard with a green wife!" he said proudly. (_And all of Oz too_, he thought).

"As you wish it." Sigurd returned.

Thus clad, with the sword tied to his belt, Fiyero was led outside the town where the ceremony would take place. Just then, he saw the old man running past him.

"Take this with you," he whispered into Fiyero's ear. "Put it upon the hilt of your sword."

But before Fiyero could say anything, the old man was gone. In his hand was a tiny golden ring.

At last, after what seemed like an eternity, Fiyero was brought to a small canopy where a monk stood with a book in his hand. To his left, behind Fiyero, stood Voland and Sigurd. To his right, directly in front of Fiyero, stood Glinda, Nessarose, Brynhildr, Gudrun and Queen Grimhild, looking very annoyed at her daughter. It was the first time since the Oz-Dust Ballroom that Fiyero saw Nessarose with her hair down.

Then, like a swan floating upon the wind and the land, she appeared. She was wearing the midnight blue dress that she had been given in Imladris - how she got it back, however, Fiyero did not know - and her hair was long and loose, a sea of black sails flying in the wind. A garland was sitting atop her head. In her arms was baby Liir.

And so they were married. What began as an accident that day at the courtyard of the Spirit of the Wizard monument now was united. And all the gods, of Midgard and of Oz, looked down upon this union with happiness and goodwill.

Nessarose, who tried hard not to weep at this joyous occasion, saw standing afar off, watching this joyous occasion, the old man, the old woman and the young woman.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Maybe not the most vivid depiction of a marriage, but I tried to keep some of it based on what tradition is known. The 'something borrowed' obviously is the sword, made of the veridium from the Jutland temple.)<strong>

**(Wow, what can I say about this chapter? There's good moments and there's bad moments. Though I definitely think that I've found new reason to keep this going. The characters are definitely going through a lot [as I myself am going through a lot with them and with my whole relationship with _Wicked_], and that struggle is somewhat depicted here...and later [in a chapter entitled appropriately enough "The Crucible"].****So please bear with me if our characters start going at each other. It will all be settled in the end...hopefully).**

**(It's definitely bending historical evidence, having the _Althingi_ here in the 5th century [I think] as opposed to the 10th century, when Iceland was actually founded and that happened. Yeah, artistic license ftw! I needed**** a reason for them to make a long voyage across the sea, as you shall soon see.****)**

**(One of the tough things about being me is that you both love God and Norse mythology, but the two often are at odds with each other. As far as I see it, there were heroes and villains on both sides, so neither is better than the other.)**

**(Any questions? Comments? Things about the wedding you'd like to know? I can answer those in PMs better than ANs. :) will hopefully return soon with a new chapter).  
><strong>


	8. The Sundering

**(AN: Interesting chapter, this one.)**

**(Also, in case you were wondering, the Spirit of the Wizard Monument is from the map of Shiz from _Out of Oz_ [though it was called the 'Spirit of the Empire Monument']. It's just outside the train station and therefore the unofficial 'gateway' to the university town of Shiz. That, in my belief, is where Fiyero first appeared via his entrance scene in _Wicked_. In the book-verse [aka. the Mirror Universe of 'musical-verse', lol], it was probably torn down and the new Spirit of the Empire Monument established in honor of Emperor Shell)**

**(Okay, so enjoy this new chapter! There's some mild suggestive material, hopefully not enough to merit a higher rating. So far, the _Ozian Adventures_ series have been open to T-viewing audiences, and I would not like to change that.)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>The Sundering<strong>

One thing that Fiyero never wearied about with these Burgundians was that they knew how to party. It was the wedding feast for his marriage and all was in merriment. He and Elphaba (wearing a dark blue veil and gloves) sat at the right side of King Gjuki and Queen Grimhild, enjoying the feast. Glinda sat next to Gudrun, who sat at the queen's left: she was not partying. The memory of a pounding head-ache the morning after the victory celebration at Edoras had quite driven from Glinda the desire to join in the festivities.

Nessarose, on the other hand, was being chaperoned by none other than Sigurd. She sat between Elphaba and Brynhildr on the right side of the thrones, and ever so often, Sigurd would look over the Valkyrie's shoulder and try to keep the young lass from harm.

"Don't drink too much, little horse," Sigurd said to Nessa. That was his nickname for her, after Brynhildr told him that she, Nessarose, had been the horse that Fiyero and Nessa rode. "You'll have Burgundian men falling over themselves, looking for a ride."

"Ew!" Nessa exclaimed.

"They'll have to get through me first," Brynhildr said, giving Nessa a playful shove on her shoulder.

"Great, I feel _so_ much safer," Nessa sighed.

"You should," Brynhildr returned. "You haven't seen me in battle. But I'm twice the match in strength and speed for any man in this hall."

"Except for me," Sigurd said.

The two started making out, both of them trying to force each other down to the floor. Nessa wasn't exactly pleased with all of this machismo and just tipped her cup and drank her wine. It was from Rome - bought, of course, by Gjuki.

She leaned back, almost spilling her cup as Sigurd finally pushed Brynhildr down. They both got back up, composed themselves and returned to the feasting. Just then, she felt someone tapping her on the shoulder. Turning with a tiny yelp, she saw it was Fiyero.

"Hey," he said. "Elphaba wants to talk to you." Nessarose leaned in and listened to what her sister said.

"Glinda's just left with the Queen," the green woman said beneath her veil. "Go see what they're up to."

Nessa nodded, turned back over to Sigurd, who was watching Brynhildr go up and challenge the men there to a test of strength, and told him that she was leaving.

"Well hurry back," he said, raising his tankard. "The bards are almost ready."

Nessa nodded, then walked down the all-too familiar hallway leading away from the mead hall, after her targets. To her surprise, they turned down a path that led steadily downward, into the hill. Nessa followed on after, and saw that the path led them outside the gates of the city, to a small grove of trees. Gathered there were several shrouded figures, all of them muttering and murmuring quietly to themselves. Nessa hid behind a tree and listened while hideous things happened.

She heard cries, demented laughter, chants in some foreign tongue, and jeers of joy echoing into the night. She wanted to look, but after the goat cry, she pretty much gave up and just listened. The racket went on and on, and Nessa was sure that the party was dying down above them in the castle. Would this madness go on forever?

At last, thank Oz, it died down. Now the others had gone back to their quiet murmurings and only three voices spoke.

"Slip this into the their drinks," Grimhild said. "Make sure they drink it."

"What is it?" Glinda's voice piped up.

"If you _must_ know," an irritated Grimhild returned. "This is a _glemsom_ potion, it causes forgetfulness. The other is a special brew designed to release the inhibitions and make the drinker more...persuasive."

"But who are they going to?" she asked at last.

"Don't ask so many stupid questions!" Grimhild snapped. "Just make sure your friends don't know what's going on while Gudrun delivers the potion."

"Why must I do it, mother?"

The sound of a hand striking something, then Gudrun crying out in pain.

"Don't _ever_ talk back to me again, or question my command!" The sound of feet running and Nessa saw Gudrun running back to the castle.

"Not so fast, Glinda," Grimhild said to the blond. "I know you've been poisoning my daughter against me. She would never directly challenge me if someone were not telling her to do against her position. I've done quite enough for you, raising you up as my servant, protecting that troll-wife and her bastard son! If you get in my way..."

"You'll kill me?" Glinda returned.

"You don't fear death?" Grimhild asked. "That's very noble of you, dear. But, I wonder if you'd be comfortable watching as the good people of Worms drag that troll-wife through the streets on her way to be flayed and burned..._after_ they've sacrificed her frog-spawn of an imp like that goat!"

Nessa had to bite her hand just to keep from crying out or breaking out in tears.

"Yes, that's it," Grimhild's voice softened. "Just be silent and play your part. It will all be fine in the end, I give you my word."

_I think I've heard enough_, Nessa thought.

* * *

><p>She made her way back to the castle by the secret entrance, then slumped against the wall. What had happened to her friends? Glinda being kept as a prisoner by that wicked queen, Elphaba 'imprisoned' and in danger, the nice Gudrun forced to break apart Sigurd and Brynhildr. Constantly the desire to just be back home crept through Glinda's sub-conscious.<p>

Just then, she saw something that she never expected to see. Standing in the hallway was a tall figure, clad in a sweeping, elegant pink dress. Huge transparent wings, like those of a butterfly, erupted from the figure's back, and a lofty crown sat atop its head of long, auburn hair that blew about though there was no wind. Two eyes like the sun glared down at Nessa from where she stood.

"L-Lurline?" Nessarose stammered, shielding her eyes from the light.

"_What?_" a booming-yet-feminine voice like a thousand waters asked. "_Nessa, it's me. It's Glinda. Oh, shiz! Just a tick-tock!_" There was a flash of light, a loud exhalation of great air, and then the light was gone. Where the aparition had once stood, there now stood Glinda, holding a golden helmet in her hands.

"Glinda!" Nessa sighed, placing a hand over her chest. "What just happened?"

"I don't know," Glinda said. "I remember trying this on," she held up the helmet. "Then I saw you and you were freaking out as if you'd seen a ghost."

"What is it?" Nessa asked.

But before she could answer her, she looked around, then went on her way, without even a second word.

* * *

><p>"Lurline?" Elphaba repeated.<p>

"I don't think I stammered, Elphaba." Nessa replied.

"This is no time for wit, Glinda!" Elphaba said. "Tell me what you saw!"

The next morning, the newly-wed couple were awoken from their slumber by Nessarose, who hadn't slept that whole night. It was showing: her hair was untidy and a bit oily, and her clothes were wrinkled. She told them everything she had seen that night.

"It was gold," Nessarose said, describing the helmet. "And, and Glinda took it off, then she came back to herself."

"The Helm of Fear." Fiyero said.

"What's the Helm of Fear?" Nessa asked.

"It's from the dragon's hoard," Elphaba answered. "There was this helm, and it would turn you into something fearful. I guess it made Glinda look like Lurline: Oz knows the people of Oz called her that when she cavorted around in that silly bubble and those ridiculous costumes."

"But what was Glinda doing with the helm?" Nessa asked.

"Yeah, I think Sigurd had it last." Fiyero stated.

"Did he give it to her? Did she take it from him?" Elphaba pondered.

But anything they might say would only be idle speculation.

* * *

><p>A day came at last when, as Nessa's spying revealed, the King and Queen would be going to the <em>Althingi<em> far in the north. Glinda was going with them as well.

"We should go with," Nessa suggested. "It will be good to get out of the castle, stretch our legs, see the world."

"She's right." Elphaba said.

"Come on, Fae!" Fiyero queried. "You've got Liir, and who knows what it's like out there in this world? We've only ever gone east, we don't know what's in the north."

"No," Elphaba returned. "But I'm sick and tired of waiting around here, doing nothing! Even if we're just going to drop by and see what goes on, I'm going."

"Well, I'm going with you, then." Fiyero said. "After all, better to be there if the Huns attack than here."

Elphaba rolled her eyes and got off the bed to collect baby Liir. She picked him up from his crib, which sat by the edge of the window, and by chance looked outside.

"Nessa, Yero, come here!" she whispered, so as to not alarm Liir.

They walked over and looked out the window at Elphaba's direction. There they saw, walking hand-in-hand in the courtyard, two of the most unlikely figures. They had met prince Gunnar before, and therefore knew him from a glance. But the woman with the hair so golden it looked white was a mystery. Then she turned around and Elphaba gasped when she saw her face.

"What is it?" Nessa asked.

"It's Brynhildr! Walking with prince Gunnar!"

"What?" Fiyero exclaimed. "I thought she was with Sigurd!"

Nessa, on the other hand, remained silent. What she had seen that night now came to fruition. The forgetful potion must have been given to Sigurd, and it made him forget about Brynhildr. With that out of the way and the little 'persuasive' potion given to Brynhildr, Grimhild gave her to her son.

_Why didn't I say something?_ Nessa asked herself. _Why didn't I stop them?_ But it was the fearful sounds she had heard at the sabbat that robbed her of the will to act.

* * *

><p>It was only a few days travel between Worms and the North Sea, and the party from Worms made good time. When they reached the shore, however, where their ship was ready to take off, it took the King quite a time to convince the captain to let them <em>all<em> on-board. Apparently some superstition about women bringing ill-fortune to men on the sea made the captain fearful about letting the Queen on their ship, to say nothing of Glinda, Gudrun, Brynhildr, Nessarose and the veiled Elphaba.

In the end, they sailed across the Sea to the southern tip of Norway, where their boat was carried across the land to the fjords near Trondheim. Here they set sail again, this time westward. With the wind at their side, they reached the isles north of Briton in short order. It was good that they made good time, for the sailors mentioned that this was the time of the year for the worst storms upon the sea.

At last they reached Iceland, without a single storm to stop their way. Already many of the north-men clans from Norway or even vassals of the Geats and Finns gathered here to discuss business. Hundreds gathered here, for here the law was read and justice was meted out for the people and their cases.

Though Iceland would not be inhabited properly by exiles from the North-lands for hundreds of years yet, this remote island was known for its icy cold temperatures and its hot pools of fresh water.

Here the group would part ways. Elphaba, Nessa, Glinda, Gudrun and Brynhildr were going to visit the hot-springs while Fiyero would follow Gjuki, Grimhild, Gunnar and Sigurd to the _Althingi_. While the people were parting ways, Nessa pulled Elphaba and Fiyero aside.

"What? What did you see?" Elphaba asked.

"Over there," Nessa indicated, pointing in front, where the lords were preparing to leave their ladies. Not only was Brynhildr kissing Gunnar, but, to their surprise, Gudrun was kissing Sigurd.

"Some dirty work is afoot," Nessa said.

"Well," Elphaba turned to Fiyero. "You go with them and see what they're up to. We'll stay here and try to ask questions."

"And enjoy the hot-springs," Fiyero scoffed. He also would have liked to see them as well. Instead, he would be denied. He kissed Elphaba, then joined their throng.

"Don't get wet, Fae." he said, turning back and flashing her with his most charming smile.

Elphaba growled. _When will he ever let that go?_

* * *

><p>The hot-springs stood out in stark contrast to the cold, hard land-scape around them. Columns of steam rose from the surface of the water. Even from where they stood, it looked inviting.<p>

The three Ozian women removed most of their outer clothing and stepped into the water first. The bite of the cold wind upon their bodies made the heat of the springs much desired and appreciated.

"I wish we had something like this in Oz," Glinda commented.

At the edge of the pool, waiting for the other two women to join, Nessa and Elphaba sat upon the bottom. For the ground of the pool slanted slightly toward its source, but the edges were shallow enough for them to sit down in with the water just a few inches from covering their shoulders.

"This is so amazing!" Nessa said to her sister. "I don't think I've had a proper bath since the morning of..." Her smile faded. "Well, the day you showed up."

It was a mood killer, and Elphaba looked about, trying to find something to build back a sense of cheer. Unfortunately, she turned her head back to the water with a violet shade of embarrassment etched plainly across her face.

"What is it?" Nessa asked.

"They don't wear any under-clothes." Elphaba whispered.

Gudrun was the first into the spring, but she had some sense of modesty and so held her hands over her upstairs as she came to rest at the edge of the pool. But when Brynhildr joined them, Nessa's mouth fell open.

"What is it?" Elphaba asked.

"I think Glinda's got some competition," Nessa returned.

"Huh?"

Elphaba didn't understand. She hadn't been there. Then again, Nessa hadn't _technically_ been there either, that afternoon at the Forbidden Pool of Henneth Annun. But, as a horse, she had seen what happened, though both Fiyero and Glinda knew not that she was there and saw what was going on.

After a while, when Glinda got tired of swimming around in the deeper ends of the pool - or prancing, or whatever it was that she was actually doing that looked nothing like swimming - they were all now lying on the edge of the pool, the majority of them still in the water, relaxing in the heat.

"Who do you think," Brynhildr began. "Has the best man as their lord?"

Looking over, Nessa saw Gudrun looking nervous.

"Green woman," the Valkyrie said. "You start."

"Why me?" Elphaba asked.

"I wish to know if you think you have the best lord."

"Uh, I'm not a subject to anyone," Elphaba returned.

"I meant your _lord_," Brynhildr continued. "Your husband."

"Oh!" Elphaba replied, catching her drift. "I, uh, well, I don't know if _best_ is the correct word. I sure love him. He can be a little empty-headed at times, but he's good. I know it."

"As you wish," Brynhildr sighed, sounding a little annoyed that the green woman hadn't 'played' her game. "Green woman's sister, what was your name again?"

"Uh, Nessarose," she replied. "I thought I told you already."

"I can't recall," Brynhildr retorted. "No matter, do _you_ think you have the best lord?"

"I'm not married," Nessa answered. Though the thought of marriage brought another thought to her head: Boq. Whatever had become of him, she knew not. She never saw him again after that day at Colwen Grounds. While she had been a horse, she had plenty of time to look, listen and think, since she was robbed of speech. She had at last realized that, because of her unnatural fear of solitude (at least to others. Nessa surely didn't find her fear of solitude as unnatural), she had tried to force him to stay with her...and in the end, she had even tried to _force_ him to love her.

_Oh Boq,_ she sighed. _If only I could see you again, and apologize for all I've done._

"Glinda," Brynhildr turned to the wee blond. "How about you?"

"I'm not married either," she returned.

"By Odin's staff!" Brynhildr groaned. She then turned to Gudrun. "How about you? I know you're married. What do you think, is your lord the best?"

"I should think so," Gudrun meekly replied. "He's the strongest warrior in the land, he's handsome. He slew the Dragon Fafnir."

"Wait..." Elphaba tried to interject.

"Some warrior," Brynhildr laughed. "Didn't even rescue me from Fire-hill."

"Yes, he did!" Elphaba stated.

"No he didn't!"

"I was there!"

"So was I!"

"Stop!"

Gudrun was now up and out of the pool, throwing her clothes back on herself.

"What? We were having fun with this game!" Brynhildr asked.

"It's not a game!" Gudrun replied hastily. "It's..."

"It's what? Out with it!"

"I know you think Gunnar's your lord," Gudrun said at last. "But it's not true. He didn't rescue you from Fire-hill. Sigurd did."

"Do you call my lord Gunnar a liar?" Brynhildr asked, rising up out of the water to challenge her.

"No, but I am," Gudrun said. "My mother asked me to give Sigurd a potion of forgetfulness, so that he'd forget you and marry me. Then she used Glinda to steal his Helm of Fear and give it to Gunnar so that he could consummate your union. But it's still my fault: I played along with this."

All were stunned silent.

Suddenly, an angry growl came from Brynhildr, and she immediately grabbed her clothes and left.

* * *

><p>A solemn crowd it was that left the hot springs to join the men as they made their way back to the long-ships, <em>drekkars<em> they were called. Elphaba and Nessarose tried to ask Glinda about what Gudrun had said, but she was not speaking to them, or even wanting to be around them.

Fortunately, there was someone who wanted to.

"Yero!" Elphaba called out.

He embraced and kissed Elphaba, then gave a tiny peck on the cheek to baby Liir.

"Miss me?" he asked. "I've only been gone for a few hours."

"It seems like longer," Elphaba said. "I have something I must tell you."

"I have something to tell _you_," Fiyero replied. "I was at the _Althingi_-thing. Gjuki and Grimhild asked the lords of the Northmen if they would send aid to them in case the Huns attacked. They refused, said that it was their problem. In the middle of the debate in comes Brynhildr, mad as an ox. She attacks Gunnar, but something must have been wrong. She seemed less, I don't know, weaker than we've seen her before. She was screaming things about being tricked and pointing at the Queen and at Sigurd. They had to take her away."

"Oh Sweet Oz!" Nessa gasped.

"It gets worse," Fiyero said. "After that, none of the lords of the Northmen wanted to offer aid. I guess we're on our own then."

"When haven't we been on our own?" Elphaba asked.

"Well, there was that one time..."

"No need to respond, Yero my dear, that was rhetorical."

"You sound like Glinda!" Fiyero asked.

"Oh, perish the day when that becomes true!"

These three then made their way back to the _drekkars_ and found a place to sit that was out of the way of the oarsmen for the voyage to come.

"Don't you dare say it," Elphaba said, turning a threatening finger in Fiyero's direction.

"What?" he asked, acting as though he was being accused of something he hadn't done.

"I'm not joking, Fiyero Tiggular!" she replied. "Say it just once and you'll find yourself swimming after us."

"Through the North Sea? Are you mad?"

"Then stop it!" Elphaba insisted.

"Stop what? I don't know what you're saying."

"Oh, like I believe that! You were going to say it!"

"I was not! I swear!"

"Say what?" Nessa asked.

"Yero has adopted this annoying habit," Elphaba explained. "Of saying every time I'm in or near water 'Good thing you're not allergic to water.' It's annoying."

Nessarose laughed. "What? Allergic to water? That's absurd! Where did you hear _that_ one, Fiyero?"

"That's what people were saying about her back in Oz." Fiyero said, indicating to his wife.

"That's silly!" Nessa said. "I've seen her take baths, I've seen her drink before. What kind of empty-headed loony would think that up!"

"I know!"

"Then cut it out!" Elphaba insisted.

"Or?"

"Or you'll be sleeping on the floor for the rest of your life."

"Oooh!" Nessa returned.

"I could handle that," Fiyero replied.

"As if!" Elphaba rolled her eyes.

* * *

><p>The voyage back to the mainland was made in haste, and so they did not weather at any of the islands on their way back. Many advised against it, since the stormy season was setting in. But Gjuki and Grimhild wanted to return home as quickly as possible, in case the Huns attacked. Now that they had no hope of support from the Northmen, they would have to do all the defending on their own.<p>

It so happened that they were making their way with all speed one afternoon while the clouds of a storm were brewing upon the horizon of the water.

"Land!" one of the men at the bow of the _drekkar_ called out.

_This is odd_, Elphaba thought, as they drew their ships closer to the islands that they had seen. _I don't recall these islands being here before._ But her common sense overruled her suspicions. _This ocean is probably big - sure _looks _big enough from here_ - _so we might just be off our course_.

Suddenly, cries were heard from off the side of the ship. The sound of rushing water followed, and everyone was now thrown to the ground, crying out in fear.

"What is it?" Fiyero asked. "What's wrong?"

"The end of the world is upon us! The _Kroken_ has come!" a big, strong warrior of the Hammer cried, the hand whose thumb was not pressed between his lips clutching his amulet.

Looking around, everyone on the ship seemed numb, paralyzed with fear. In a short while, it was soon seen why.

A huge arm, like one of the slippery appendages of the Watcher in the Water, reached up out of the depths of the ocean. Much bigger and more menacing it looked, covered in leprous barnacle-growth. The _drekkar_ began to shake and toss about. The sea also began to froth and writhe, as if in anticipation of the coming storm.

"What is that thing?" Nessa asked.

"I don't know," Elphaba replied. "I've only seen something like that once before, but it was smaller. I never thought it could..."

Suddenly another giant arm appeared, then another and another. Soon nine long tentacles were flailing about in the air, or crashing into the ocean, stirring it up. The little ship was now a toy in its hands, tossed upon the waves as easily and as recklessly as a leaf.

Fiyero turned to Elphaba, but saw that she was not responding. That vacant expression that usually accompanied rare moments of pure, raw, unbridled Elphaba-magic was now upon her face.

"Nessa!" Fiyero called out. "Make sure Liir is safe! I'm gonna look for Glinda!"

One of the giant tentacles struck one of the other _drekkars_, shattering it to pieces. Men went flying in all directions and at last fell into the sea, weighed down by their armor and weapons. No cry of a woman was heard, and Fiyero's heart was still hopeful.

Fiyero ran to the front of their boat, but found nothing. He was now on his way back when he saw Nessa come running toward him, baby Liir in her hands.

"I couldn't find Glinda!" Fiyero called out.

"Here! Take him!" Nessa said, holding the baby out for Fiyero to take hold. "Something's wrong with Elphaba. I think it's her curse."

Fiyero grabbed the baby, but suddenly saw something coming their way.

"Get down!" he cried out, pressing himself down to the ground as quickly as possible, trying to shield baby Liir from the danger above while not crushing him with his weight.

"Fae!" he cried out. He looked back, and saw one of the giant tentacles suspended in mid-air, an acrid smell of burning flesh stinging his nostrils.

The green woman held out one hand and a blast of fire struck one of the tentacles of the beast. To those around, it seemed like an explosion of light, for now the storm-clouds hid the sun. Again and again she heaved blasts of fire at the giant creature, until at last, driven against a foe it could neither hit nor find, the Kraken returned to the depths, awaiting the time of the Twilight.

But its toll had been high. Two whole ships went down and many had died as a result.

Fiyero got up, walking over to Elphaba, who was swaying unsteadily on her feet. The rain was coming at last.

"Fae, are you alright?" he asked.

"Don't say it," she muttered.

"Wasn't going to," he smiled. "Look! Look who's come to visit!" He handed baby Liir back to his mother, who was more than over-joyed to see that her baby was still alive.

"I was so worried, Yero!" Elphaba admitted. "That thing came and then I just seemed to lose control."

"It's okay, now," he said. "We're safe." He kissed her, and she kissed back.

They rose to their feet, along with many a frightened Burgundian warrior - both Christian and Pagan - who were amazed that the Kraken was gone. They looked at Elphaba with a little bit of fear and amazement. Only then Elphaba realized that she had left her veil back in Iceland. Everyone could see her for what she really was.

"Yero," she said warily, after having walked down the entire length of the _drekkar_. "Where's Nessa?"

* * *

><p>When they made landfall at last, it was on the wings of a storm. Fiyero had never seen Elphaba get like this before. It was as if the whole world meant nothing to her, and she just sat there in silence, not looking at anything, not him, not the baby. Nothing else seemed to matter to her now that Nessarose was gone again.<p>

At last, however, the inevitable happened. Elphaba, in her nigh-catatonic state, bumped into Glinda.

"What's wrong with you?" Glinda asked.

"Nessa's gone." she muttered.

"Oh?" Glinda returned.

As if finally sprung from her stupor, Elphaba struck Glinda across the face hard.

"My sister is dead, and all you can say is '_oh_'?" she seethed.

"It's not like _I_ killed her," Glinda returned.

"Glinda, what's this all about?" Fiyero asked.

"What?" Glinda replied. "Oh, don't even think that you've never noticed. All this time I've played the quiet, nice girl, preening to every stupid thing you've brought before us. Now, when poor, poor Nessa goes away again, you want me to cry for her? Well, I'm sorry, but I have bigger things to concern myself with."

"Like stealing?" Fiyero returned. "Taking the Helm of Fear, using it to break Sigurd and Brynhildr apart?"

"I'm securing my future, Fiyero!" Glinda returned. "You already have yours. I won't be denied _mine_ anymore!"

The air was tense as these two faced each other down, a look of shock on Fiyero's face and Elphaba returning to her state of being half-dead.

"I suggest," Glinda said. "You leave Worms the moment we get there."

And with that, Glinda turned back to join Queen Grimhild.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: So yeah, what do you think?)<strong>

**(Heavy stuff going on, but as I think I may have said [though not in so much depth], I've been struggling with my _Wicked_ fan-dom. Part of me is starting to not like Elphaba, since her whole motivation, it can be conjectured, was just to get attention [she wanted to be famous, a la '_The Wizard and I_', and her shining moment in the whole play, '_Def_y_ing Gravity_' is when everyone is looking at her, she even admits as much in '_No Good Deed_'].**** Now no offense to Paul the Apostle, but the love of self is root of all evil in my opinion, not the love of money****. As such, Elphaba really _is_ a candidate for the Wicked Witch of the West.)**

**(But I still like her as a character nonetheless. Therein lies my predicament. Part of me is starting to not like her, yet still liking her at the same time. With that, I am forced to reassess my _Wicked_ fandom as a whole and see if it will continue on as a major part of my life. Also, the characters need to grow up along with me, as we shall see in the next chapter 'The Crucible'.)**

**(As far as Glinda's behavior is concerned, if you re-read the last chapters, you will see that I've been dropping hints at what may have happened. If those are not clear enough, I will just come out and say it in the next chapter[s].)  
><strong>


	9. The Crucible

**(AN: The long-awaited crucible...)**

**(The time of crisis has come, and now we shall at last see where our characters stand, whether they shall remain friends in the cause of good or fall into darkness.)  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>The Crucible<strong>

The unfamiliar shores of a new land opened up before Nessarose. She was drenched to the bone, cold beyond recognition and, from the looks of things, cut off from the others. The last thing that she remembered was being hit by something heavy, cold and hideously clammy.

When she pushed herself to her feet - much easier now that she had learned to do it with so much practice - she almost fell backwards back onto the floor. Standing before her were two very strange characters. One was the old man who had been there at Elphaba's wedding. The second was tall and muscular, with a mane of red hair and a big red beard. In one of the giant thing's hands was a hammer, like those that the people of Worms wore as an amulet, only this was bigger and looked like it could do business.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Where am I?"

"You know me," the old man said. "You've seen me before."

"I have," Nessa said, warily rising to her feet. "But that doesn't mean I know who you are."

"Just the same," he shrugged. "You're lost, and that's where I come in."

"How?"

"Show her, Thor." the old man said to the large one, who whistled.

"Thor?"

"Oh, that's right," the old man said. "You don't know, you're not from the Nine Worlds."

"That's absurd, father," the red-bearded Thor said. "All that is resides within the Nine Worlds. How can she be from without?"

"Just because all that you know is from the Nine Worlds, my son," the old man returned. "Does not mean that that is all there is."

"That's ridiculous."

Just then, a chariot drawn by two red-brown goats appeared.

"Your chariot awaits you, milady," the old man said, waving to the chariot.

"Where are you taking me?" Nessa asked.

"Back to the mainland," the old man replied. "Thor, tell her."

"I was out hunting giants one day," the red-haired man said to Nessa. "When I saw a great army from out of the east. At first I thought it was Loki freed again, but I saw that it was not so: the Huns, led by their captain Atli, are marching westward toward Rome. They will be in Worms within three days' time."

"Yes," the old man added. "Therefore it's vital that you lead your friends out of Worms immediately. I will be there to lead you back to your own land."

"But how do you know the way? Uh, who are you, even?"

"I know more than mortal eyes can attest to having known in three hundred life-times," the old man cryptically replied. "As for who I am, you know that already."

"But I don't!"

"Just try, young daughter. You will know the truth when the time is right. Now, hop on."

"But how do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't," the old man plainly replied.

"Then why should I get on that chariot of yours and go to wherever it is you're going to take me?"

"You just need to have faith, that's all."

* * *

><p>Night-time at last. They were back in Worms. Glinda hadn't said anything about them leaving yet, and so they decided to spend the night - at least, while they were able to do so. Fiyero fell asleep first and remained asleep the longest, undisturbed by dreams.<p>

It was almost perfect, until, as it would happen, his foot, sliding beneath the covers, fell forward. In his subconscious, it felt like falling, and so he jerked awake.

To his shock, Elphaba was not there in the bed.

He got up and looked around in what dim light there was flooding through the portal into their room. Baby Liir was still in his crib. Then where was his mother?

The door was slightly ajar. Getting up, he walked down the hall and saw, just a little ways down in the light of a torch, the swish of a cloak around a corner. He sprinted across the hall, rounded the corner and saw the cloaked figure now running for the exit. Like a Kalidah closing in for the kill, Fiyero ran the rest of the way and tackled the cloaked figure to the ground.

"Let me go!" she hissed.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded.

"Let me go!" she repeated.

"Not until you tell me why!"

"Why do you think?" she asked. Fiyero was now on top of the figure and had removed enough of her hood to identify who it was: no one else in Worms had green skin that glowed that way in the torch-light.

"I can't do it, Yero!" she admitted. "I couldn't save Nessa again, how much better can I be a mother?"

"So you're just going to leave him all alone?" Fiyero asked.

"I never had any kind of sense of nurturing about me! I never cared for anyone or anything."

"But what about the Animals?"

"It's not about the Animals. It's..." She seemed to be struggling to get it out.

"About what, Fae?"

"It's about me, okay? That's all I ever wanted, for all of Oz to love me, to sing my name in praises, to look at me for more than just my skin color! That's the only reason I took it up with the Animals, because if I could make Oz love them for them, then they would love me for me."

Silence followed. Fiyero got himself up off Elphaba and slouched against the side of the hall. For some reason, she did not keep running but got up against the opposite wall, facing him.

"And I thought _I_ was genuinely self-absorbed!" Fiyero exclaimed. "You're going to throw your..._our_ child away just because you can't get over yourself?"

"I couldn't save Nessa!" she returned. "How can I expect to be a mother to Liir if I can't even save my own sister?"

"Well, let me tell you something, Fae," he replied. "I don't think I was ready to be a father. I really don't. I still don't think I'm ready. But I'm willing to try, even if I fail. You know why? Because Liir is also my son, and I'd sooner die than let anything bad happen to him."

"But I can't be thinking about everyone else for the rest of my life!" she replied. "How will I ever be able to live if I'm always thinking about if this is going to hurt other people in the long-run? How will I ever get anything done?"

"By thinking about people other than yourself, Fae," Fiyero began. "I know you have it in you, despite everything you just told me."

"How?"

"Glinda told me about that afternoon in the Wizard's throne room. Now if what you're telling me is true, and you only think about yourself, why didn't you accept the Wizard's offer? What made you run?"

"I wanted to be noticed."

"Not then, maybe when you flew off into the sky and started shouting at the Emerald City. But that moment, before that, when you were offered a chance to join the Wizard and you refused, what made you refuse?"

Silence.

"I don't know!" she said at last.

"Maybe youknow, deep down inside, what's really right and wrong, and can tell the difference," he began. "I'd like to think that when you refused, you knew that what he was doing was wrong, and that's why you left, not because of fame or attention. Still, I don't think that's the _real_ reason you're leaving, is it?"

"Isn't it?"

"Come on, you can tell me."

"I can't!"

"Fae, we've known each other how long now? If you can trust your husband and your lover, who else can you trust?"

"I'm afraid, alright? Does that make you happy?"

"So what? I'm afraid too."

"But you have no idea what I'm afraid of, Fiyero! I'm-I'm afraid of messing up, with you, with-with Liir, I'm afraid of...of so much, I can't even begin to describe it."

Then, as if from out of a dream, a vision of some distant past of bright sunshine and golden trees, a voice, like a memory, spoke in Elphaba's mind.

_You must not be a slave to fear._

"You've taken on the Wizard and Madam Morrible and all of the armies of Mordor," Fiyero said. "Will you _really_ run at the thought of being a mother?"

"Don't start with me," she groaned.

"Fae, I'm not going to force you," he said. "All I want is for you to give it one last chance. Stay here, for one night more, and if, by then, you are still intent on leaving, you may go."

Elphaba turned to Fiyero.

"You'd do that for me?"

"For you, anything!" he smiled.

* * *

><p>"Are you with us, dear?" Queen Grimhild asked.<p>

Glinda could neither say yes or no. She was there in body, yet her mind was in so many pieces. She had never felt such mental agony as she now felt. Her mind could not stay steady for one moment, too many impulses, too many urges. All the old ways, all the old desires for greatness, for fame, for popularity, for self, the ways traveled the most through her mind, those were the ones that were coming back.

She knew what she was doing when she cast the spell. Yet cast it she did. Perhaps there was some last vestige of good left in _this_ body, which made her give the book to the one that died. She couldn't possess it, she knew, for it would destroy her. She was not yet powerful enough to master that kind of magic.

_But you _could_ be that powerful_, she thought.

_No, _another thought returned. _Look what powerlust has done to you already! You've driven off your friends, who knows if Elphaba will forgive you after what you did!_

_It's _her_ fault, _the first thought replied. _She has her own problems and hang-ups, they don't concern us._

_They _do_ concern me,_ the second thought said. _They've concerned me ever since the Oz-Dust_...

"Glinda, are you paying attention?" the queen asked again.

"Hmmm? Oh, yes."

"Now I ask you again, are you with us?"

"Haven't I always been with you?"

"Good, then it's settled. You will go to Sigurd and seduce him into surrendering the location of Fafnir's hoard."

"What? No! What about Gudrun? Isn't she married to Sigurd?"

"Who?"

"Gudrun, your daughter!"

"I have no daughter, not after she betrayed me at the _Althingi_," Grimhild dramatically replied. "No matter, you will do this thing tonight."

"Why?"

"Because the Huns are within two days march of the city!" Grimhild began. "They're after Fafnir's hoard. The reports of Etzel's army marching didn't arrive until two days after you took ill. During that troll-wife's wedding, drunken Sigurd told of how he slew the dragon on the very day.

"But that gold belongs to me! If we must ransom Worms to the Huns to protect the gold, then so be it!"

"Wait, what? You're going to surrender? Wasn't that against the faith of your fathers? Weren't you _supposed_ to fight for the lost causes, as your gods ordained?"

"Damn the gods!" Grimhild replied. "All that matters now is the gold, and killing as many men of the Cross as I can find. I'll let Etzel have the city, and he can kill _them_ off if his men are thirsty for blood. In return, I will secure safe passage out of the city..." She turned back to Glinda. "And _you_ will secure for me the location of Fafnir's hoard. With it in my possession, Eztel will have no choice but to negotiate."

"If half the things I've heard about them are true," Glinda replied. "What makes you think they will even negotiate?"

"If I wanted a slave's opinion, Glinda, I'll ask for yours!" Grimhild then departed.

_Oh, what have I done?_ Glinda sobbed into the night.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: Fun fun! Obviously Nessarose isn't dead, and she'll reunite with the cast in the next chapter...where Elphaba has her finest hour yet!)<strong>

**(Don't go away!)**


	10. Sacking of Worms

**(AN: And now, the moment you've all been waiting for...Elphaba's finest hour!)**

* * *

><p><strong>Sacking of Worms<strong>

Needless to say, more than a few eyes turned at the sight that now approached them, walking down the streets of the fortified town of Worms. It was a woman, that much was certain. But she was not like the women of this time. She walked firmly, with her eyes set straight forward. Her clothes were black and their pattern outlandish - at least, in comparison to the drab clothing of those others in the town. But what was the most curious about her was that she was armed: a bow and a quiver full of arrows were slung across her shoulder.

She made her way directly towards the hall, a keep, if you could call it such, in the center of the city.

So it was that the guards of the keep saw her and brought her before the King and Queen. At Grimhild's side, there fidgeted a tiny blond woman, who was more than a little happy to see this grim-faced person.

"Nessa?" she asked. "Is it..." Without orders and directly against protocol, she bounded off her chair and almost tackled Nessarose Thropp to the floor.

"Oh, sweet Oz!" Glinda cried. "We thought you were dead!"

She pulled out of the embrace, but saw that Nessa wasn't looking directly at her. In fact, her eyes held a vacant expression. As of one who had to endure the worst possible tragedy and lived through it - if only just barely.

"My lord, my lady," Glinda turned to Gjuki and Grimhild. "Let my companions be summoned here at once! They must see this gloriocious occasion!"

"Come again?" Gjuki asked, not recognizing the Galindafied word she used (or Glindafied, if you prefer).

"I do not think that would be prudent," Grimhild said. "It would cause a stir..."

"I've served you faithfully this past year," Glinda said aloud, so that all in the hall may hear her. "And never once have I asked for anything for myself. Now I ask for that one thing - let my friends be brought forth to see their beloved companion, thought dead but alive again!"

Grimhild rolled her eyes, then turned to one of the guards and gave instructions to summon Fiyero and Elphaba.

At last, Nessa spoke...but to the King...

"My lord," she said at last. "An army of the Huns is on their way to this city, less than two days away from us." Murmurs and frantic whispers echoed from all the _huskarls_ and _hersirs_ in attendance to the king.

"Silence!" Gjuki commanded.

"If my advice means anything, my lord," Nessa said. "I would advise that you lead the people to safety and prepare your soldiers for battle."

"Nonsense!" Grimhild interjected. "To think of showing cowardice in the face of an enemy!"

"I am still the king of this city!" Gjuki replied.

"And is that king a coward?" she asked, loud enough for everyone to hear.

This exchange went on for a while, until the guards finally returned with Fiyero and Elphaba (with baby Liir in her arms). All of a sudden, it was like a great burden had been lifted from off the green woman's shoulders.

"Nessa!" she exclaimed, running down and throwing her arm around her sister's shoulder. "Oh, Nessa! Please forgive me! I couldn't keep you safe!"

Fiyero joined the group hug, well - the group of those three (four, if Liir is counted).

Glinda was standing apart once again.

"No!" Grimhild said at last. She then turned to the attendants and sword-thanes. "Let any man who is brave of heart remain here in the city. All cowards may flee for their lives."

This was quite the ultimatum. Many were, at that moment, questioning what they would now do.

"What does she mean?" Elphaba asked. But Glinda was ignoring them once again.

"The Huns are coming," Nessa replied, a bit absentmindedly.

"Why are you still here?"

They both turned to see who it was who had spoken.

"I said that you should leave the moment you arrived here," Glinda said at last. "You've had a whole day - why aren't you gone?"

"Glinda, what's gotten into you?" Elphaba asked. Then, suddenly, her own powers came to life, just as they had that one day in the hallways of Shiz when she imagined herself beloved by all of Oz...

Only this time, her visions did not show her the future, but the past. Dreams and images she once had that, before, were nothing more than beams of light reflected off broken glass, now came through clearer than the waking world.

Glinda was the light. But for every light, there was a shadow. She had walked in that shadow until that moment at the Oz-Dust Ballroom, when she joined Elphaba out on the dance-floor. It seemed like such a silly thing then, especially in comparison to all the great deeds they had done up till now. Yet so much seemed to weigh on that one moment.

Then she saw Glinda, alone again, with the Grimmerie in her hands. She read from it - she could read from it now? Elphaba was amazed - and then she was no longer simply one Glinda, but four. Two were identical, so much that not even Elphaba could have told them apart if they were standing together. With a pang of an old, painful memory, Elphaba knew that one of those twin Glindas would die in her arms in a cave in an Oz of long ago. It was the one, she deemed, who had the Grimmerie in her possession when she left. After all, she _had_ given it back to her once they met. Perhaps Glinda knew the dangers of the book, and so did not trust herself with it anymore.

The greater part of the shadow departed into one of the Glindas, and it was lost to Elphaba's vision. The last one returned to Oz, to serve as the eyes and ears of Glinda, as well as the protector of Oz's people - just as she had promised. And what was left of Glinda, the last bit that remained, the host, the original after which all of these were just copies? She was less than half of what she had once been. The light and the dark were now at odds with each other, and with her in this weakened state, they had greater control over her.

Then one of the Glindas died. Elphaba knew which one that was, for she had been there. The portion of her that had been good left and returned to the host. Stability had been returned, but Glinda was still half of what she had once been, and subject to swift alterations in her mood.

_Still_, Elphaba thought, _she's stronger now than she was when she was one of four. Perhaps she could be strong enough to..._

All of this happened in the space of a few seconds, a few minute batting of the eye-lids.

"What do you mean?" Glinda haughtily replied.

"Please, Glinda, hold out!" Elphaba begged. "I know you can do it, I know you can!"

"I said leave!" she returned. "Leave now, or do you wish to die with the rest of us?"

Cries of fear came from those around. Already it seemed that their cause was hopeless, and their deaths would be in vain.

"Come on, Fae," Fiyero said at last. "We should go."

"No, I can't!" Elphaba pleaded. "She's my best friend! The only friend I've ever had! I won't leave her here to be killed by the Huns!"

"Will you _please_ stop talking about me like I'm not _standing in front of you?_" Glinda shrieked. Everyone in the hall threw their hands up over their ears to protect themselves from her powerful voice. If there had been anything made of glass in the hall, it would have surely been shattered to pieces.

"I said get out of Worms!" she returned.

"Silence, woman!" Gjuki shouted. "By all the gods, Heimdall does not need the sharpest ears to have heard the noise _you_ make!"

Glinda turned back to her companions, a glare in her eyes. They took the hint and returned to their room.

* * *

><p>By now, all of Worms was in a frenzy. People were readying themselves for battle, others were locking away their valuables and their livestock. In the place that had once been their prison, Elphaba and Fiyero were getting their things together. They did not have much: Fiyero wore the green scarecrow garment, his sword upon his belt and his black shirt and trousers in a bag. Elphaba wore the old, frayed black one-piece dress that she'd been wearing since they left Middle Earth, her blue Elvish dress stowed away along with the Grimmerie and her hat in a sack that Fiyero would carry, with her own sword on her belt. Nessa had nothing save for Azalea's gift and the bow and quiver of arrows.<p>

For carrying Liir, Fiyero took a basket and cut out a part of one end of the bowl. He then had Elphaba tie this to his own back and the placed Liir inside the basket just behind him.

_If Elphaba's going to leave_, he thought, _I might as well start taking care of him._

While these two prepared to leave, Nessa stood there, not doing much. She simply stared out of the narrow window at the outside world, a forlorn expression on her face.

"Nessa, let's go!" Elphaba replied. No response. "Nessa, come on! We have to go!"

"I was alone," Nessarose muttered. At this, Elphaba wrapped her arms around her sister's shoulders, kissing her neck.

"Oh, Nessa!"

"They couldn't take me the rest of the way," she continued. "We were attacked by giants: they were after the red-haired one. The old man...he told me to go ahead to Worms and warn you. He gave me this..." Her hand waved over her shoulder, at the bow and quiver.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Elphaba replied.

"No, it's alright," Nessa said. "I've lived through the worst - I'm alright."

The sisters embraced.

* * *

><p>Mere minutes later, they were on their way out of the city of Worms, all three of them (with Liir on Fiyero's back). The city was slowly getting smaller and smaller as they made their way westward, atop a nearby hill. In the distance, like a smudge of gray and black upon the horizon, they saw the sign of war: smoke.<p>

"Poor Glinda," Fiyero said at last. "Only a miracle can save her now."

"I don't wanna talk about it." Elphaba returned.

"Okay," he held his hands up, apparently still in bad waters with her.

They turned around and saw someone standing there, as if waiting for them.

"And I thought _I_ was the one who came and went so quickly!" Elphaba returned.

"Well met, green daughter!" the old man said. "I am pleased that I found you in time. The Huns will soon be upon the city and this place will no longer be safe."

"What should we do?" Elphaba asked.

"I know of a place where I can bring you," he continued. "You will be safe there. But you cannot go as you are now, you will be slowed down. You don't want the Huns catching you unawares."

"We have weapons," Nessa said. "You gave this to me, remember?" She presented the bow.

"The Huns outnumber you vastly," the old man continued, ignoring Nessa's statement. "Even if you all had swords and nine times nine years worth of skill how to wield it, you would quickly perish." At this, the old man held out his hands.

"Let me take the boy," he said. "I will take him there first, he will be safe. The rest of you can come along as you wish: it will be faster this way, and safer for him."

Elphaba walked over to Fiyero to remove Liir from the basket, but Nessa stood up before the old man.

"Elphaba, Fiyero," she said. "Just wait a second."

"We have no time to waste!" the old man insisted. "The Huns are moving! Every minute spent, they march a mile closer. Give the boy to me!"

"Why did you leave me?" Nessa asked again.

"This is no time for questions, woman!" the old man returned, getting annoyed.

At this, Nessa drew one of the arrows out of her quiver - with a shining silver tip - and fitted it in the bow. With this, she drew it back and aimed it at the old man.

"He's not the old man!" she said. "Don't listen to him!"

"Be quiet, woman, and put that thing away before you hurt yourself!" He turned to Elphaba. "Will you let your sister's fears rule you, or will you give me the child?"

"Why do you care about him so much?" Nessa asked.

"I don't want to see him come to harm! I'm looking out for his well-being!"

"Ha! You've always known that we could take care of ourselves! That's what you told me!"

"Well, of course I did, but this is an extreme situation!"

"And the other times weren't?"

At this, the old man turned to Elphaba, an angry, frustrated look in his two eyes.

"Elphaba," he called her by name. "Give me the child."

Suddenly, the old man was gone. In his place there stood a younger, handsome man, almost eight feet tall. His hair was black, uncommonly short and a wicked gleam there was in his eyes. All of them took a step back, and Nessa drew her bow just a little bit tighter, aiming the arrow at its face, which had red spots on it as if it had been burned by slow-dripping drops of fire.

"I've outsmarted the gods themselves," Loki growled. "What makes you think you can keep that child from me?"

Nessa let loose her arrow, but the half-giant was too quick. He moved aside and the arrow clattered uselessly to the ground.

"Run, Yero!" Elphaba cried out. "Run away as quickly as possible!"

"I'm not leaving you, Fae!"

"Do it!" she turned around. "For Liir!"

"Is _that_ his name?" the half-giant roared, laughing. "Well, he'll have a new one once I'm through with him."

A frenzy came over the green woman, the likes of which none of them had ever seen before. Her eyes burned red as if with fire, her left hand trembled, dropping the staff, as her right hand drew the green sword from its make-shift sheath.

Loki laughed at her.

What happened next happened so fast that not even Fiyero and Nessa could have stopped it if they saw it. The half-giant threw out his hand, growing longer and longer as it pulled outward to reach the baby on Fiyero's back. The green woman jumped in the way, but the hand was moving too fast.

It went straight through her stomach, and failed to grasp baby Liir by a few inches.

* * *

><p>Glinda now stood at Grimhild's side, as they awaited the coming of the enemy. Etzel, the leader of the Huns, had received the Burgundian messenger who ordered a parley. The messenger never came back, but Etzel and his warriors did come forward.<p>

As if to show that he was so important that they were not worthy to speak directly to him, Atli, called Etzel by the Burgundians, spoke to Grimhild through a translator.

"My master," the translator said. "Says that he is surprised to see women coming to beg for the life of your city. Are there not men enough to defend its walls?"

"I am not come here to beg," Grimhild said. "But to parley." The messenger shared this with his lord.

"What do you have to give my master that he cannot simply take by force?"

"The dragon's hoard," Grimhild proudly responded. She had the upper hand, and soon these Huns would be bowing before her every wish.

At this, Etzel waved his messenger back and spoke to Grimhild directly. Glinda saw a man, no taller than the Wizard, with dark skin and clever eyes that seemed to pierce at her from beneath his fur-lined helmet.

"Why should I trust," Etzel asked. "That you will just _give_ me the Rhine-gold?"

"I'll give you more than that," Grimhild said. "Every man in Worms bearing the Cross is yours to kill."

"You would sacrifice your own people?"

"Any man, woman or child who bears the sign of the Cross deserves to die!" Grimhild replied.

Etzel remained stoic.

"But how will _you_ benefit from this deal?"

"You will not harm any man, woman or child in Worms who bears the sign of the Hammer," she said. "We will be allowed to leave peacefully and without molestation."

Etzel nodded.

"Very well," he concluded. "Where is the gold?"

Grimhild waved Glinda forward.

"You _did_ get the location out of Sigurd, didn't you?" she asked.

"Um," Glinda stammered.

"Don't tell me you've _forgotten_!"

"Gudrun confronted me," Glinda said. "I told her what I was doing, she said that she would do it. Said that you'd given her the order to get that information, not me!"

"Idiot!" Grimhild struck Glinda across the face again. "And where, might I ask, is Gudrun?"

"I don't know!"

Struck again across the face!

Furious, Grimhild turned her gaze away and saw a lone figure riding out on a horse. From the mane of blond hair that shined like a speck of gold, she knew who it was that was now fleeing.

"You have deceived the great lord Etzel," the messenger said. "For this, your whole city will be destroyed."

At this, Grimhild laughed.

"You think you've seen the last of me?" she asked.

Without another word, she kicked her horse in the flanks and rode off. Not back to the castle, Glinda saw, but away. In Worms' time of need, her queen had turned tail and fled for her own life.

Now Glinda was left alone with these very dangerous-looking Huns.

* * *

><p>"Back to your cage!" the old man said to the half-giant.<p>

He had appeared at what seemed the nick of time. With the green woman injured seriously, there was nothing to stop the half-giant from taking the child. Then the old man appeared, and the red-haired one as well. And they bound Loki again and the red-haired one departed, with the half-giant in his keeping.

"It seems I've arrived here just in time," the old man said.

Fiyero and Nessa had Elphaba cradled between them. Her clothes bore a dark-red stain where the half-giant's hand had gone straight through her.

"Where is her staff?" the old man asked.

Fiyero leaned over and brought the staff to the old man.

"No, don't give it to me, give it to her!" he insisted. "Put it in her hands."

"Why?"

"Odin's beard, Fiyero, has she not read the words engraved upon the head?"

Both Fiyero and Nessa shook their heads. Nessa, however, was trying to size up the old man, making sure that this was no more trick.

"Don't worry, child," he said, lifting the rim of his hat up just slightly so she could see his one eye. "I know who I am. Still, time is running out."

"Time for what?" Fiyero asked.

"Your friend is in danger," the old man said. "And you will soon be able to return to your homeland!"

"What?" both Nessa and Fiyero asked together.

"You heard me!"

"Wait, how?"

"That's why you need her!" he pointed to Elphaba. "Put the staff in her hands, already!" He whistled, and a large black horse suddenly appeared, with eight hooves.

"Use my horse," the old man said. "He will take you where you need to go." He then leaned in and whispered in the horse's ear, and it neighed in response.

"But you must find her before sun-down," the old man admonished. "Page five hundred and fifteen in that book of yours. It will know which one."

"Wait, how do you know about the book?" Fiyero, suddenly a thought (or a memory) forming in his head, spoke up. "I thought it was from..."

"I don't have time for this! So much to do! Just find your friend and read the spell before the day ends and you will be back in your home...and in your own time!"

With that, the old man walked off from where he stood and promptly vanished.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: -sigh- I think eleven chapters is all I can force out of this story.)<strong>

**(I had planned on more, but this was just getting punishing, writing this story. There's no inspiration, and I'm starting to think that maybe even I'm starting to not like it. That whole 'finest hour' didn't seem that fine, and I tried everything I could think of - but Elphaba still makes her life-changing decision, and pushes through her crucible...painfully, albeit)**

**(So one more chapter, then one more _Ozian Adventures_ story and I can finally put this on hold!)**


	11. The Warrior and the Witch

**(AN: Last chapter, then we're on to the next story in the series. Hopefully this will wrap things up.)**

**(If you have any questions, please leave them. I'd be more than happy to answer them...at least give the _appearance_ that people are interested in this story.)**

**(Anyway, here's the last of it)**

* * *

><p><strong>The Warrior and the Witch<strong>

In a few short minutes, the city of Worms went up in flames. The Huns were making short work of the defenders, and those who surrendered were conscripted into Etzel's army.

Upon the hills, the last defenders were making their final retreat. It was to such a group that Fiyero and Nessa,with the wounded Elphaba on the back of the eight-legged horse, found someone they did not expect to see.

"Sigurd!" Elphaba weakly sighed.

On a bier, carried by two men, was Sigurd, lying broken and bloodied. At his side was Brynhildr, already having fallen.

"Elphaba?" he asked.

"Bring me over to him!" Elphaba said to Fiyero and Nessa. They led the horse over.

"I don't know why," Sigurd said. "But I know you. Though I can't remember when we..."

"Sigurd, what's happened?" Fiyero asked.

"The queen," Sigurd returned. "She betrayed us to the Huns. We fought, until we could fight no more..."

"And you're retreating?" Fiyero asked.

"Never!" Sigurd shouted. "These bastards took me, put me on my death-bed. I have not the strength to..."

"Go on, get!" one of the carriers of Sigurd's bier said to the Ozians, then continued on with the rest of the fleeing ones.

"Farewell!" Sigurd weakly called back. "I shall speak your names to Odin, when I come to Valhalla...especially you, green warrior-maiden."

It would be the last time they would ever see Sigurd Dragon-slayer.

* * *

><p>Several miles she rode, after the fleeing figure in blond. Though Glinda was not accustomed to riding, and the saddle upon which she rode was making her sore beyond belief, she had to keep moving. Even though the sun was now on its way down beyond the western sky, half of its golden disc buried in the earth, she had to ride on.<p>

_Where was she going_, Glinda asked herself.

They finally stopped at the edge of a river. Here Glinda's horse came to a halt and she threw herself off. Gudrun was now removing a heavy golden pelt filled with gold from the back of her horse.

"Gudrun, wait!" Glinda called out.

"Glinda, I'm sorry," the young woman said, with tears in her eyes. "I have to do this."

"Wait, what? What do you have to do?"

"I have to bury the gold in the river," Gudrun said. "That way no one can have it, not the Huns, not my mother, no one. The curse will die with me."

"Gudrun, please! You're my friend, you can't die!"

"I'm sorry," were the last words Gudrun said, before she tore the crucifix from off her neck, tossed it at Glinda's feet. She then took hold of the heavy golden otter skin and leaped into the river.

* * *

><p>The eight-legged horse moved faster than any animal they had ever seen. Even Nessa knew that, as strong as she had once been, she could never run as fast as this monstrous horse. It also seemed to know which way they were going.<p>

With a neigh, it came to a halt at the edge of a river. Standing there all by herself was the one they were seeking.

"Glinda!" Fiyero called out.

She turned around, and saw Fiyero with baby Liir upon his back, and Nessarose and Elphaba wounded. She let out a cry and ran towards them, wrapping her arms around each of them in turn.

The crucible had at last come to an end.

"Oh, Elphie!" she sobbed. "What happened to her?"

"Some creature attacked us," Nessa said. "It went after Liir, she was wounded trying to protect him."

"We have to do something!" Glinda nigh-shouted. She reached into the sack that hung from Elphaba's shoulders and pulled out the Grimmerie. Unfortunately, it remained open on a page with the title _Gone with the Wind_ and would not be turned to any other page.

"It's not working!" Glinda cried. "Oh, we can't lose you, Elphie!"

The horse neighed again.

"What? Get away with that!" Fiyero said, trying to shoo what the eight-legged horse was trying to shove at him.

"Wait!" Nessa stated. "That's it!" The staff! It was the silver-headed staff that was Elphaba's wedding present, the one the old man told them over and over to put in Elphaba's hands.

Yet they ignored him.

Glinda picked up the staff, but suddenly stopped.

"What is it?" Nessa asked urgently.

"I think I've seen this before, or felt it..." Glinda mused.

"Come on, we don't have time!" Fiyero urged. He took the staff out of Glinda's hands and placed it in one of Elphaba's long-fingered green hands.

There was a glow of warm, golden light about the body of the green woman. Then a gasp, like the in-taking of much air.

Suddenly there was Elphaba, the blood from her wound was gone and she was looking rather well.

"Oh, Elphie!" Glinda cried, throwing her arms around Elphaba's shoulders. "I feared you wouldn't make it."

"Whoa, easy there, Glinda!" Elphaba giggled. "Nessa and Fiyero, they're likely to think there's more between us than just friendship."

Glinda laughed and cried. It was good to have Elphaba's old wit and humor back.

"Oh, I don't care!" Glinda continued.

Fiyero and Nessa simply stared at each other in awkward silence.

* * *

><p>It was a long time before they could pull the two women apart. When they finally did, it was because the eight-legged horse had snorted loudly, then took off in a heavy gallop.<p>

"Well, I guess we're stuck here, then." Nessa commented.

Then they noticed that the sun was almost down.

"Quick! The book!" Fiyero said.

Taking last minute stock of what they had, Elphaba made sure they had everything, then knelt down over the book, the other three (well, four including Liir) hanging onto her from behind.

"What are you waiting for?" the old man asked. "Do it! The sun is almost down!"

"How do I know it's really you?" Elphaba retorted.

"You don't," he answered. "You'll just have to trust me."

"How do you know so much about this book?" Fiyero returned. "I thought it came from Middle-Earth!"

"It did, but Midgard and Middle-Earth are but one and the same!"

"What?" Fiyero asked.

"Take the book with you and hurry!" the old man said at last. "The sun is almost set. And worry not, children, I will always be there to help you."

With that, he was gone again.

"Whoa, _that_ was creepy," Elphaba stated.

"He's helped us more times than you give him credit for, Elphaba."

"Guys?" Glinda called out. "Can we hurry this up?"

"Okay, okay!"

Elphaba began weaving the spell, hands drawn over the Grimmerie, words speaking the ancient tongue. The magic began to form around her, manifesting itself in bright flashes of colored light. The violet pages were gleaming in the gathering darkness. Their hair began to fly in the steadily increasing wind. Nessa's own hair was blown free and Glinda would have had a nightmare if she saw her curls, now all in a mess.

In a flash, they were all of them gone from Midgard.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN: -sigh- Done with that!)<strong>

**(Definitely felt good to get that off my chest! Any references to Tolkien are based off of the first three _Another World_... stories. [I also don't own _Lord of the Rings_]. That is my 'cover-up' for _L__ittleGreenFae_'s 'anachronism' that the Grimmerie is from Middle-Earth. As Tolkien stated that Middle-Earth is just a very ancient Earth, that would still make it from Earth, though from a very _ancient_ past. And as they say in _Dogma_, "No harm, no foul.")**

**(I think I got an idea for the next story of the series, though a name is going to evade the hell out of me. For now, ask me questions about anything you may have seen. If it won't give too much away, I will answer them. [though I kind of wish the Nordic aspects of this story had ended differently])**

**(See you around for the seventh installment, coming soon!)  
><strong>


End file.
